


Blood of my Brother

by AMax76



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherhood Redemption Roadtrip, Brotherhood of the Dark Kingdom (Disney), Child Abuse, Emotional Support Animals, Everyone is Chaotic Stupid, Gen, Good Parent Quirin (Disney), Hurt Varian (Disney), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Incarcerated Varian (Disney), Panic Attacks, The Brotherhood is a family, The Brotherhood shares one braincell, Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira, Varian Angst (Disney), Varian needs therapy, they all do really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 126,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26699017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMax76/pseuds/AMax76
Summary: Hector could count the number of times he had been truly, deeply mad on one hand.Right now, he was furious.When Hector goes to Old Corona to visit Quirin, what he finds is not at all what he expects. Now he and a very injured Varian are on the run from the royal guards. For all he said he would never have a family outside of the Brotherhood, his mind is made up: no one is touching his nephew.But the past doesn't die easily, and shadows of days gone by threaten to tear the small family apart. Two lives—the battle-hardened warrior and the child who had to fight for survival—are tossed into the fight again as the war between Sundrop and Moonstone grows ever stronger.A/N: on temporary hiatus, sorry!
Relationships: Adira & Hector (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Varian (Disney), Cassandra & Varian (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Hector & Varian (Disney: Tangled), Lance Strongbow & Varian, Queen Arianna of Corona & Varian (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona and Hector (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona/King Frederic of Corona (Disney), Rapunzel & Varian (Disney), Ruddiger & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 1534
Kudos: 698





	1. The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, I am absolutely dedicated to the Uncle Hector vibe. We were cheated out of interactions between him and Varian in the series. So much lost potential!
> 
> Anyway, I am currently a stressed-out college kid, so updates will be whenever I can. I have a few pre-written chapters.

A shiver ran through his thin frame as he lay limp on the stone floor of his cell. The film of sweat coating his body only worsened the chill. He huddled into a tight ball, mindful of the bruises and wounds covering him, and gripped his tattered shirt with both fists. The thin fabric did nothing to alleviate the penetrating cold.

He flinched violently as a metallic clanking noise sounded from somewhere nearby. His brain was too tired to try to figure out what it was, but he knew it probably meant impending pain. That was all it ever meant. Towards the beginning of his stay in the luxurious quarters that was the Corona prisons, he had tried to analyze every sound, memorize every guard rotation, never sure when this information might aid him.

He wasn’t even sure how long ago that was. Time had no meaning down here. He was fairly certain this was intentional, as the guards never seemed to bring their sparse meals on a consistent schedule. There were no windows in the lower levels, so no sunlight or moonlight reached his eyes.

A second clanging noise, this time somewhat recognizable as metal against hard stone, sent him curling further into himself. His aching body protested the movement, and he gave a sharp gasp of pain. He quickly bit back the sound. 

His pounding head spun psychotically as he attempted to look up. He groaned quietly and put his head back down. The fever had sprung up sometime yesterday—or was it the day before? The dank, musty atmosphere of the cell pained his lungs, and he alternated between freezing to death and feeling like a fire resided in his bones. The guards had had no mercy for his weakened condition and had continued their harsh treatment of him. 

Where, oh where was Ruddiger? His faithful friend had been taken from him upon his arrival. The little raccoon had been a constant source of comfort for him up to and throughout the events leading to his imprisonment. When the blizzard had raged outside his lab, Ruddiger had stayed curled up next to him, providing his own warmth to the frigid child. How he longed to have him here now, to ease the pain and loneliness he suffered from in this living nightmare!

But wasn’t that selfish of him? The words of the guards rang through his tormented mind. _Selfish brat. Doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Willing to hurt others just to get his way._ If Ruddiger were here now, he would be trapped in this dark hole just like his human. Maybe the guards had let him out into the woods. Maybe he was relaxing somewhere in an apple orchard. Maybe he would even find a new human, a better one, one who wouldn’t mutate him into a beast to further his own plans.

A third metallic sound. A key in a lock. Screeching hinges as his cell door was pushed open. Varian curled further into his protective ball, knowing it would do nothing against the heavy boots the guards wore. His breathing quickened against his will. Gone were the days when he could look his tormentors in the eye and feign a confidence of sorts.

A hand touched his arm. He flinched away from the contact. _Nononono don’t hurt me why can’t you just leave me alone_ –

Expecting the hand to grab him and drag him roughly to his feet the way they always did when he was unable to move on his own, he was surprised to feel it suddenly release him. He tried to look up again but was met with a wave of dizziness that threatened to send him into unconsciousness. A voice said something that he couldn’t understand. Then strong arms were gently lifting him, supporting him against a muscular chest. A wave of panic flashed through the little prisoner, and he tried weakly to twist out of the hold. His efforts were in vain, and the person holding him readjusted their grip slightly to keep him from falling.

Despite the fog clouding his brain, Varian was aware that the chest he was leaned against was covered in fur rather than metal armor. That, combined with the fact that he was being carried rather than dragged, was enough to open the possibility that this was not a guard. Rather than feeling relieved, this only made him struggle more. Who was the stranger? What did he want with him? Where were they going? If he wanted to kill him, he could have very well done that back in the cell. Was he being taken away for a more sinister purpose? They would have sent a guard escort if that was the case.

None of the puzzle pieces were fitting together in his fevered mind. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He kept struggling. The stranger shifted him again, and this time Varian was able to understand what he was saying.

“Stop wiggling unless you want us to get caught. I’ll knock you out myself.”

Varian gritted his teeth. “Put…me… _down._ ” His voice was weak and raspy.

The stranger groaned, then tossed the boy over his shoulder. “Seriously. Do you want these guys to catch us? I don’t think they’ll appreciate seeing you out of your cell. Now _stop moving._ ”

The sudden motion set Varian’s head spinning again. This time he lost the battle to stay awake.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector could count the number of times he had been truly, deeply mad on one hand.

Right now, he was _furious._

Word had spread about the battle in Old Corona. Apparently it had caused quite the stir throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Remembering that Old Corona was where his estranged brother had chosen to settle down and pretend he didn’t have a family, the warrior had decided to drop in for a visit. Not that he was concerned, of course. Quirin could handle himself. Certainly no worry about the older warrior at all. No, just idle curiosity.

The first person he had asked had stared at him in shock, then responded flippantly that he hoped the two hadn’t been close.

Following the rumor trail, Hector had found Quirin’s encased form and learned that it was apparently his own _son_ that had done this. The boy had brought an entire kingdom to his knees, attempted to murder the queen and a handmaiden, and killed his father. The villagers had had no shortage of cruel things to say about the _traitor_. Hector’s opinion of the boy sank lower with every person he asked. Then he had run across one little old lady.

_Quirin’s son… Ah, yes, I remember him. Varian. A sweet child, or at least he was. Always made me a special medicine to help my joints. Much better than that stuff the physician charged a fortune for. And the little dear wouldn’t take a penny in payment. Just said he was happy to help. Oh, his age? He was… gracious, fourteen, I think? Yes, thirteen or fourteen. What? No, he was just a little thing. Hardly bigger around than a sapling. Couldn’t put meat on that boy’s bones for nothing. Shame about his father. And I never saw the boy after that horrible blizzard. Wondered what happened to him. Then they said he kidnapped the queen. Doesn’t sound like him, not at all. He’d never hurt a fly. Wonder what they did with him…_

After that, the story changed rapidly. When questioned further, people admitted that yes, he had seemed like a good child, just reckless and dangerous. But they’d _never_ expected something like _this_ from him.

Finally, Hector had made up his mind to visit this alchemist for himself. He had marched down to the dungeons and _politely_ requested to be allowed to see him. (Note: _politely_ in this circumstance meant not threatening the guard with a sword.) The guard had denied him entrance at first, but Hector had informed him that his brother was one of the _fatalities_ caused by that boy’s actions. That changed the man’s tone. Eager to assure the warrior that the boy was in fact being punished, he had showed him the way to Varian’s cell.

Hector wasn’t sure what he expected. It certainly wasn’t the tiny, frail child huddled into a ball to try to escape the torment he received at the hands of the guards and shaking from the cold. Upon further inspection, he could see the numerous cuts and bruises riddling the child’s body. They looked to be untreated, and several appeared to be infected. There were also burn marks across his arms.

_Has he not received medical attention?_

_Of course not. The little brat doesn’t deserve it. Now he knows how we felt thanks to his attack. You know, one of his machines knocked me out. Sprained my ankle. I was limping for a week!_

That was when Hector had slammed the man’s helmeted head against the wall.

He had snatched his keys and unlocked the boy’s cell. He didn’t look any better up close. When Hector reached out and touched his arm, he flinched away and curled up tighter. Hector winced. _Oh, kid, what did they do to you?_ Pulling the child into his arms, he had quickly turned and made his way back through the dungeon.

Now here he was, carrying a limp, feverish twig of a boy who may or may not have murdered his father, and why? Because he was his nephew? Better wait to consider him that until he knew if he meant to kill Quirin. Because he was just a little kid? Because he was suffering undue abuse at the hands of cruel guards who held a petty grudge for scrapes and bruises?

Whatever the reason, something had flared to life in Hector’s breast. This kid may not have had the best reputation, but neither did Hector. If Quirin were here right now, he would likely have done the same thing. Well, he probably would have tried to reason with the jailors first. He was always a stickler for the rules like that. But to allow a child to be beaten and tortured? Never.

When Hector threw the boy over his shoulder to keep him from wiggling out of his arms, he felt him give one last jerk, then fall still. “Crap. You better not die on me, kid.” He slipped out past the guards’ turned backs—honestly, the Dark King would have had the Brotherhood’s heads if they’d been so careless—and into the night. Certain now the child would not cause any problems, he gently shifted him back into his arms the proper way. Hanging upside-down from the warrior’s shoulder could not be good for him in his current condition.

The door leading to the outside led into what looked like a training field for the guards. Hector kept to the shadows, ducking around equipment and watching for guards. He had almost made it across the field to where his bearcats were waiting, but just as he stepped out towards the archway leading outside the field, his path was blocked by a woman.

She stood about 5’5” to his 6’10”, but that seemed to bother her none whatsoever as she bravely stared him down. “What do you think you’re doing out here?”

Hector mentally cursed himself. How had he missed her? Was his skill that faded that a tiny little woman could evade his attention? She held her back ramrod-straight and showed no sign of fear at the sight of a warrior lesser men trembled before.

Hector decided he liked her nerve.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back.

One of her eyebrows shot up. “I’m not skulking about in the shadows carrying a child. Are you a kidnapper?”

“Kidnapper? Of course not!” He had to admit, though, he did seem a little suspicious.

“Then what exactly—” She broke off suddenly as she stepped closer and caught a glimpse of the child. “My goodness! Is that Varian? What happened to him?” She suddenly glared at him fiercely. “Did you do this?”

“No! Listen, lady, I don’t hurt kids, and I don’t take kindly to people who do.”

“Then how did he…” She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “No… tell me they didn’t—Fred promised to get him help!”

Hector rolled his eyes. “Well, if this is Fred’s idea of ‘help,’ I think he’s ‘helped’ enough. It’s time for someone who actually cares to do something. That’s my job.”

She seemed to come to some conclusion, and she met his eyes sternly. “You’re trying to protect him.”

“Yes.” Despite his uncertainty about this child, he would not allow this horrendous excuse for “justice” to continue.

The lady nodded. Then she took off her cloak and placed it over Varian, tucking it around his still-shivering frame. She arranged the material around his head to cover his hair stripe without blocking his ability to breathe. “Here. If they see his hair, they’ll recognize him. Get him somewhere safe.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Why do you want to help him?”

She met his yellow eyes with a look of compassion he hadn’t expected. “He’s just a child. If I had known… I never would have let this happen. I’m ashamed of myself for not checking in on him.” She took a shuddering breath, letting her steely composure slip for a second. “Take care of him.”

He dropped his guarded expression as well. “I will. Thank you.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Why do you trust me to help him? You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I’m hardly capable of stopping you should you choose to leave with him. And besides, if it was my husband who ordered _this_ —” she gestured to Varian’s scarred frame— “Letting him go with you might be the better option.” She searched his eyes once more. “Why do _you_ want to protect him?”

He hesitated only a second before answering. “He’s family. My brother’s son.”

Her eyes widened. Then she nodded and started to step aside to let him pass.

Hector started to go, but the door behind him suddenly burst open and two guards rushed out. “Your majesty!” one of them exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

The woman gasped at the sudden interruption and put a hand to her heart. “I’m alright, Stan. Thank you.”

Hector’s body went rigid, and he quickly forced himself to relax. The last thing he needed was to look even more suspicious, if that was even possible.

Apparently it was. “Who are you?” the second guard snapped as they approached the couple. Well, trio, including his nephew’s unconscious body.

He quickly adopted a casual tone. “Just out for a walk, fellas. My nephew fell asleep, bless his heart. Poor thing’s exhausted.”

The guards shared a look, clearly not convinced. One of them stepped closer. “Mind if I see him? All sorts of nutjobs out and about these days. Never know who’s a kidnapper.”

“No problem,” he responded easily. As the guard got closer and reached for the cloak covering Varian’s hair, Hector threw a roundhouse kick directly to the man’s face. He crumpled to the ground. The second guard met the same fate before he could so much as move.

“I do apologize for the violence, Your Majesty,” Hector said politely to the woman. She was staring in shock at the two unconscious guards. “They’ll be fine in a few minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He stepped around her and slipped past the archway to his waiting companions.


	2. First (Official) Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian and Hector meet officially (the rescue/kidnapping doesn't count). Neither is really sure how to handle this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varian's response to physical touch is based off my own experience with touch aversion. I was never in an abusive situation, but I did have nerve damage due to an allergy that resulted in actual physical pain when I came into contact with anyone. After we figured out what was causing it, it still took months for me to get used to being touched, and I still struggle. If anyone has any advice on how to write a character in Varian's situation, please share! I want this to be as accurate as possible, and I recognize that my own experiences are insufficient in depicting this.
> 
> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mentions of injuries, negative response to physical contact

The warm sun shone down on the boy’s battered frame, bringing with it a sense of peace he had not felt in months. His mind flitted back to those late summer days, right before the air would snap, when he would lay on the bank of the creek and listen to the water rippling over the stones, the smell of apples permeating the air, his faithful raccoon curled up asleep by his side…

Fur tickled Varian’s cheek. He hummed softly and snuggled deeper into the body beside him. The movement sent a stab of pain through his side that left him gasping for breath. Breath would not come easy, though, as his throat felt like it was on fire.

He pried his eyes open—the bright sunlight stung after so long in the dark—and glanced at the creature next to him. His first thought was that it was Ruddiger. But no, it was far too big. Had he mutated? How? Varian wasn’t there to give him the serum. He was in jail—

Wait, he was supposed to be _in jail!_

He tried to sit up, but burning pain shot through every inch of his being—which, granted, wasn’t a lot, but it still hurt—and he fell back against the creature’s side with a soft groan. Even making that small sound hurt. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. The heat of the sun, combined with the body temperature of the creature beside him, left him suddenly pouring sweat. He was burning! His arms ached with phantom pains of hot metal, something weighed against his thin body, keeping him down, holding him, he couldn’t move, _he couldn’t move they were going to hurt him and he was helpless and they were holding him and it was SO HOT_ —

The creature beside him moved suddenly, taking much of that heat away and letting a cool breeze drift across him. A shadow crossed in front of his face. Looking up, he saw the face of a… he wasn’t actually sure _what_ that was looking back down at him. Definitely not Ruddiger, though the resemblance was striking.

The oppressive weight was suddenly pulled off him. Glancing over, he could see a second creature grasping a blanket in its mouth. Varian welcomed the sensation of being able to move, though his efforts met with just as much success as earlier. His arms still ached, his ribs burned, and his head felt like it was stuffed full of fabric. Though the thought of what he might see frightened him, he forced himself to look at the damage. Alone with two strange creatures in a strange place, he would need to know exactly how bad off he was if he wanted to recover and possibly defend himself.

Starting small, he looked at his arms.

Then his eyes widened.

Both his arms were wrapped in clean bandages. His left forearm was in a splint.

His legs and feet were bandaged as well.

His shirt was missing, and his entire torse had received the same treatment.

How—?

_That man._

Someone had carried him out of prison. Someone had taken him away from that cold, dark cell and tended to his wounds and wrapped him in a blanket.

Why?

And where was he? Where was the person who did this? _Who_ was the person who did this?

The creatures, apparently satisfied that he was fine now, curled up nearby and watched him. Varian looked around him curiously. He was laying on a pallet in the middle of a sunlit grove. Near the spot where the creatures had curled up, several bags lay piled on the ground. A fire crackled cheerfully a few yards away with a kettle on it. The man was nowhere to be seen.

The bags grabbed Varian’s attention. There might be a weapon in there if he could get over to them.

The thought made him want to laugh. He couldn’t move an inch without feeling like he would die. Getting to the bags was an absolute impossibility, much less using a weapon if he found one. Unfortunately, he was as much at the mercy of this stranger as he had been at the mercy of the guards.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector watched from the edge of the treeline as the small boy tried in vain to move. In pride, he saw his pets quickly move to make him more comfortable. They had always been good at knowing just what needed to be done. Taking the blanket off him may not be the best for his health, but the child was clearly on the verge of a panic attack.

Hector had only been gone for five minutes to collect more firewood. He and his companions, conscious and unconscious, had traveled hours from Corona before stopping in this sheltered grove during the early hours of the morning. It was a safe enough location that Hector felt comfortable stopping for a while to tend to his nephew.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do now. The verdict was still out on this kid. There was every possibility that he was a murderer. Quirin’s murderer. What would he do with him if that was the case? He couldn’t in good conscience leave him to be snatched up by the guards again. No matter what the kid had done, he didn’t deserve that.

Even if he wasn’t a murderer, it wasn’t like Hector could just take him back to the Great Tree with him!

…Couldn’t he?

Absolutely not! The Tree was no place for a child!

But what other alternative was there? Leaving him in some village in the middle of who-knows-where was just asking for him to get in more trouble. And he couldn’t exactly leave the Tree and his mission just to watch the kid. He had already been away far too long. The trip, which might take an ordinary traveler anywhere from ten months to a year to complete, had been made in three. His trusty rhino had been left behind to guard the Tree. But three months was still too long, and anything could have happened in that time.

Hector groaned. No matter where he turned, he only saw bad options.

Oh, great. Now the kid was eyeing his bags. The last thing he needed was to find one of his own knives stuck in his back. Not that the boy looked to be in any condition to do something like that. Still…

He strode into the clearing and dropped the pile of wood he had gathered by the fire. The kid—Varian, he reminded himself; if he was going to interact with him, he might as well call him by his name—flinched violently at the sudden action. He stared up at Hector with wide, frightened eyes. “Wh-who—” His voice broke off in a painful-sounding cough.

“Don’t talk,” Hector growled. Well, he didn’t exactly mean to growl. It was just how he was used to talking, except when he made an effort to act normal such as he had with the queen the night before. Intentional or not, the tone, or maybe the words themselves, caused Varian to shrink into himself with a quiet hiss of pain.

“Ah, crap. I didn’t mean—you shouldn’t be putting a strain on your throat. You’re sick.” He forced a cheerfulness he didn’t feel into his voice. “You need to rest.”

Varian just stared at him skeptically. He weakly lifted a hand and pointed to the warrior.

“The name’s Hector.”

“V-va—”

“I know. Varian.” Hector crossed to the bags and rooted through them until he found what he was looking for. Then he turned back to the child. He didn’t miss the way Varian tried to inch backwards as he drew closer. When he knelt down next to him and reached out a hand to the boy, Varian cried out in fear—quickly slamming his mouth shut and cutting off the noise—and jerked away.

“Crap!” Hector withdrew carefully and slowly to avoid startling the boy anymore. “Sorry. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to help you sit up so you can drink this.” He held up a small vial. “I didn’t want to make you drink it while you were asleep.” He sighed at the tiny child’s feisty glare. “It’s medicine. Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already.”

Instead of putting Varian at ease, the words only seemed to frighten him more. _Crap._

“That’s not what I meant. I just—look, can I help you sit up so you can drink this?”

For an agonizingly long amount of time, the unwilling escapee seemed to size Hector up. The warrior wondered if putting the choice in his hands was a good idea. He probably hadn’t had much of a say in anything since this whole ordeal started. Including his rescue.

Finally, though, he gave a small nod. Hector _slowly_ leaned in close and reached an arm out to help him up. The child flinched slightly as Hector slid his arm behind his back. Whether it was from the pain of moving or just the fact that Hector was touching him in the first place, he couldn’t say. Probably both. He motioned to one of his bearcats, who slid up behind Varian to allow himself to be used as a backrest. This time Varian’s grimace was from pain. He bit his lip. Hard. As he relaxed against the bearcat’s side, Hector could see a thin scar forming across the child’s lip. Apparently this was a gesture he repeated often.

He did not miss Varian’s silence throughout the entire move. No more than a shaky breath here and there indicated he could make noise at all. The realization made his blood boil. What had they subjected his nephew to that he refused to make a sound when he was clearly hurting? Why would he choose to bite himself so hard he left scars rather than make a sound? The one time Varian did express his pain vocally, he had cut himself off so quickly Hector was afraid he couldn’t breathe!

Once Varian was upright, Hector gently lifted the vial up. Varian tried to reach out for it, but his hand was shaking badly, and he couldn’t get ahold of it. He glared at his hand as if he were personally offended. Hector sighed and lifted the medicine to the child’s mouth so he could drink it.

“Drink it quickly. Don’t pay attention to the taste.” The boy gagged on the medicine but swallowed it obediently. Hector winced in sympathy. He had long since become accustomed to the taste, but he could well remember taking that disgusting sludge since he was younger than Varian. It did the trick, though.

Hector then picked up the blanket and draped it over Varian’s legs. The boy’s lips tightened in a thin line. “You have a fever,” Hector reminded him. “You need to stay covered up. At least your legs.”

Varian’s eyebrow raised sharply, and he gestured weakly at his forehead. Hector had to bite back a laugh at his nephew’s stubbornness. “Yeah, I know you’re sweating. You still need to cover up.” He turned to the kettle hanging over the fire and stirred the contents. Tasting it experimentally, he nodded in satisfaction. Then he withdrew two bowls from his bag. “Needs to cool for a minute,” he said as he ladled what looked to be some kind of soup into the bowls. He set them on the ground and sat cross-legged near Varian. “Okay. There’s one thing I have to know. And frankly, I’m dreading to ask.” He took a deep breath to steel his nerves. Of all the agonizing things he’d had to do and say in the past, this was the worst. Quietly he began. “Quirin… I saw his body.”

Varian’s eyes widened, and he seemed to fall apart at the words. Tears sprang to his eyes. His shoulders drew in close as if he was expecting a blow.

“Kid… did you mean to—”

Varian rapidly shook his head in dismay. Then he grimaced in pain at the motion. He looked up at Hector pleadingly and shook his head slower. “I-it—acci—”

“It was an accident?”

He nodded. Then he pointed at himself. “Sho—” His brows knit together in vexation at being unable to speak. _Should’ve been me,_ he mouthed. _Supposed to be me._

“You nearly got stuck?”

_He saved me._

Hector wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh. On the one hand, his nephew wasn’t a murderer. It was just an accident. On the other hand, Quirin had sacrificed himself for his son. How typical of him. Always willing to put his own life on the line for his family. It was frustrating. And it had gotten him killed.

And what was he supposed to do now? Quirin would be absolutely furious if Hector didn’t take care of Varian. He could already hear his older brother yelling at him from beyond the grave. _What do you mean you left my son by himself in some village in the middle of who-knows-where? Were you_ trying _to get him sent back to prison, you dirt-licking flower spine? Why not just send him back yourself, while you’re at it?_

No, leaving Varian alone was not an option. The last thing he needed was to be haunted by the ghost of an angry big brother.

But could he take him with him? Involve him in a mission Hector had dedicated several decades to?

What other option did he have?

He groaned and ran his hands over his face. “Okay. Here’s the deal, kid. You and I are taking a road trip. I don’t know where we’re going yet. I may take you back home with me. I may find someone who can take care of you. We’ll figure it out as we go along, ‘kay?”

“W-hy?”

“Because I don’t need your dad’s ghost keeping me awake at night. I got enough ghosts doing that as it is.” He picked up one of the bowls and started to hand it to Varian. Then he remembered his busted arm. “Here, I can help you.”

Varian shook his head stubbornly. Apparently medicine was one thing, but being fed was too much for him. He held out his right hand. It trembled still, but somehow he was able to hold on to the bowl. He carefully brought it to his lips and sipped at it.

Hector couldn’t hide a smile as he watched the range of emotions his nephew’s face conveyed. Skepticism was written across his features, apparently put there by the horrid medicine he had taken earlier. Then, as he tasted the soup, his eyes lit up in surprise and delight.

The sentiment was bittersweet. Hector had intentionally left out the spices he usually would have put in there as he didn’t want Varian getting sicker or too thirsty. It was unusually bland. If it was delicious to this kid, he couldn’t imagine the trash he had been given in prison. He had seen how thin Varian was when he bandaged his abdomen. As soon as he was able to stomach it, the kid was getting a steak.

And some new clothes.

And probably a knife. He needed to be able to defend himself.

He’d probably also need a bearcat or some other creature to protect him. If not a bearcat, maybe a wolf or a cougar—

Hector quickly derailed that train of thought. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do with the kid! Giving him a wild animal companion could come much later down the line, if he even decided to let him stick around. Honestly, the best thing to do would probably be to find a nice, safe orphanage somewhere far, far away from Corona.

Aaaand there was Quirin’s ghost, glaring over his shoulder.

Crap.

He was broken from his musings by a hand tapping his knee. He looked up in surprise. Varian was watching him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Wh-why did… did you re-"

“Why did I rescue you?”

He nodded.

Hector sighed. “It’s a long story.”

There went that eyebrow again. Goodness, the amount of sass this boy could exude even in his condition! Hector couldn’t help but wonder what he would be like when he was well.

“I knew your dad.”

Varian’s head tilted slightly. “How?” he rasped.

“…He was my brother.”

The boy’s eyes flew open in shock.

“Not biologically. It was more of… an adopted thing. We met as kids. Our sister Adira, too.”

He leaned closer slightly. Hector sighed. Of all the things he had expected, storytime with an injured child he broke out of prison was not one of them. “It was years ago. We were so young. We lived in the Dark Kingdom.”

“What’s that?”

“Shut up and listen to the story. The Dark Kingdom is a kingdom. It’s dark. I was getting to that part. Anyway, we all lived in the Dark Kingdom. We were trained as members of the Brotherhood from the time we were kids. Became knights as teenagers.”

“What-t’s the Broth…hood?”

“An elite group of knights. We were like family. It just sorta stuck. Trained together, fought together, worked, played… we were inseparable.”

“What hap—happened?”

He tensed as old memories of a time lost long ago flooded his mind. “The Dark Kingdom was destroyed from within. It was always fading, but _that_ … that was the final blow. The king sent everyone away. The Brotherhood was supposed to keep protecting our home, but… well, we all chose different paths. I chose to guard the way to the kingdom to keep anyone from entering. Adira spent her life chasing something that doesn’t exist because she thought she could “save” our home. And Quirin chose to settle down and start a family. We kept in touch with the occasional letter. That’s how I knew where to go.” He sighed. “I saved you because I owed that much to Quirin. And because what you were going through was cruel and barbaric.”

Varian tensed. “I de-deser—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Hector growled with more force than necessary. Anger flared in his chest at the thought that this was what they had drilled into his nephew’s mind. “You didn’t deserve the way they treated you.”

“I d-did hor-rible things!”

“And so did they. Look, I don’t know what happened back there. You can tell me when you’re better. But don’t ever say you deserved what they did to you. Ever.”

Once again, the child’s eyes filled with tears.

“Ah, crap! Don’t cry! I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to upset you.” What the dickens was he supposed to do now? The only time he ever saw his siblings cry, even as kids, was when they had a broken bone or other severe injury. Well, Varian was technically severely injured, but that didn’t seem to be causing his distress. Why would he be upset because Hector had said something nice?

Varian quickly wiped his tears away. “S-sor-sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry! I’m sorry. Look, I don’t understand kids, and I don’t understand emotions. But if you need to cry, go ahead.”

“Why a-are you so…ni-nice to me? I killed—”

“No!” Hector grimaced as Varian flinched again. “Sorry. You didn’t kill Quirin. He has this nasty habit of getting in harm’s way to protect the people he cares about. Well…had. If he saved you, you’re not responsible for that.”

The escapee closed his eyes, apparently lost in dark memories of his own. “But I am.”

“What?”

“He…he told me not—not to mess w-with the rocks… I did an-anyways. The black rocks.” Tears openly streamed down his cheeks now.

The black rocks. Somehow it always led back to those stupid rocks. Even away from the Dark Kingdom, it was impossible to escape. And Quirin, the one who had the most to live for, the one with an entire life and future away from his troubled past, was the one to fall prey to the greedy jaws of the rocks’ destruction, leaving behind a scared, hurting kid.

A scared, hurting kid that was convinced he was responsible for his father’s death.

A scared, hurting kid that Hector needed to protect.

…Ah, crap. They were going to the Tree.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian tried in vain to brush the tears out of his eyes, but more sprang up in their place. The crushing despair that threatened to overwhelm him every time he thought about his father refused to allow him space to breathe. He was drowning, drowning in his own guilt.

His mysterious companion had gone silent at his declaration of responsibility. Now he would turn his back on Varian, would send him back to prison, would give him back into the hands of the guards who hated him.

His dad’s brother. The news left him reeling. He had been found and rescued by the one man who would hold a grudge more than anyone else. Now that the man—Hector, he had called himself—knew what Varian had done, he would be furious. He might not even turn him over to the Coronans. He may just kill him himself.

Oh, wait, he was talking.

“…can go through a small town not far from here. We’ll wait till tomorrow, though.”

“What?”

“Were you not listening? I said there’s a town a ways from here. I don’t want to move you tonight since you need more time to recover. But we need to be moving by tomorrow morning. We’re still too close to Corona for comfort. We only stopped ‘cause I needed to check your wounds.”

Varian couldn’t believe his ears. “I—I just to-told you I probably k-killed—killed my dad!”

“'Probably’?”

He looked away. “I couldn’t exactly check his pulse.” His voice was growing stronger thanks to the warm soup, but he spoke barely above a whisper. “Th-they all tell me he…he’s probably dead now. You shou—should hate me.”

Hector continued to stare at him. “Why would I hate you? You messed around with the rocks. Quirin saved you. You’re clearly torn up about it. Sounds like you hate yourself enough for both of us. Ah, crap! That’s not what I meant!”

Varian was shaking with silent sobs. He bit his lip and held his left arm with his right hand. He had no way to debate Hector’s words. They were as true as the sun rising. He hated himself. Hated himself for killing his father. Hated himself for attacking the kingdom. Hated himself for hurting—

“Ruddiger!” he suddenly gasped. Then a coughing spell stole his oxygen. “Can’t—can’t leave without Ruddiger!”

“Who’s Ruddiger? Friend of yours? Is he in prison too?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know. They took him. He’s a raccoon.”

“Ah. A pet, then?”

“My friend. I need to find him!” He tried to push himself to his feet. Then he sagged weakly back against the creature’s side.

“’Kay. I’ll handle it. Where would he probably be?”

Varian looked up in surprise. “You’re…you’re gonna look for him?”

“’Course. If you need your raccoon, I’ll find your raccoon. Where should I look?”

“Umm… well, if they let him go when they arrested me, he ma-may have gone back to my home. There’s an apple orchard he likes to steal from. Or he may be h-hanging around the prisons. No, I don’t think he’d still be there after all this time. Yeah, probably my home.” Exhausted from the conversation—this was the most he had spoken ever since his arrest—he leaned his head back against the creature and tried to relax.

“’Kay. Wait here. I’ll probably be gone till morning. Maybe afternoon. Firewood should last you that long.” He moved around the campsite, taking the kettle off the fire and slinging his bags over the back of one of the creatures. “Kiki should be able to take care of anything you need.”

“Kiki?”

Hector motioned to the creature he was leaned against. “Kiki. The bearcat. Here, you should probably lay back down.”

Varian tried not to tense up as Hector reached out to him. The warrior seemed to stop and consider his actions. “Is it okay if I help you?”

He nodded. Hector helped him adjust back in a reclined position then set one of the bags next to him. “This has some dried fruit and jerky in it. Do you think you can handle solid foods?” He nodded a second time. “Good. It’s got a skein of water in it, too. If you absolutely just have to move, let Kiki support you. He can also take care of the fire.” He climbed onto the back of the second bearcat. “See you tomorrow.” The warrior and his bearcat raced out of the clearing and disappeared from sight, leaving Varian alone with Kiki. Alone with his thoughts.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector gritted his teeth. He was an idiot.

_Congratulations. You left a crying child in the middle of the woods by himself with only a bearcat for company. On top of that, you’re the reason he was crying!_

Hopefully once the kid got his raccoon, he would be okay. Hector knew very well the emotional difference a pet could make. He had always been more comfortable around his bearcats and rhino. The only actual people he had ever felt comfortable around were his siblings. Now one was dead and the other was off committing treason somewhere.

His lack of sociability was the cause of Varian’s distress. He had hurt him with his words. _Nice going, idiot. And just when you had decided to take care of the kid. Now he’ll never want anything to do with you._

But what if he did? What if Varian was okay with going with him, even after what he had said? Maybe when Hector brought back the raccoon, Varian would be grateful and realize Hector wanted to help him.

If that was the case, Hector had a lot of work to do. Every movement he made set Varian panicking. His words were coarse and cruel, and his tone was not at all suited to speaking to a hurting boy. Maybe he’d pick up a book on children. How old was the kid, anyway? Eight? No, the woman in Old Corona had said he was maybe thirteen or fourteen. He was awful small. Nothing a bit of training and good eating couldn’t fix.

 _Getting rather attached, aren’t we, old man? You still have a job to do, remember? Where are you going to find room in your mission, in your_ life _, for a kid?_

_I’ll figure it out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I noticed several people were happy about my inclusion of Queen Arianna being on Varian's side. Would y'all like a scene from her POV for the morning after the escape, or do y'all want me to just keep using Varian and Hector's POVs? Let me know what you think! Chapter three is going to be a bit shorter, so that's where I'd add it.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianna deserves respect. Varian thinks a lot. Hector makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, apparently bearcats (binturongs) are an actual thing! They're a little small, but hey, we can take a bit of artistic license for the sake of a story.
> 
> I don't plan to spend every chapter dwelling on character mindsets. I'm setting the stage a bit for the action to come. Don't worry; there will be plenty of action!

All Corona was in a buzz. Everywhere anyone turned, all they could see was the hastily-generated wanted posters for the escaped prisoner and his accomplice. All anyone could hear was the horrified whispers, whispers of vengeance and treachery. No one knew where the traitor was. No one knew what he would do, where he would go. Would he return to Corona for revenge? Would he try to attack the princess or the king and queen?

Arianna didn’t think so. No, from what he had looked like the last time she saw him, he wouldn’t be seeking revenge anytime soon. She shuddered to think of what that poor child had been through since his arrest! It had been about six months since the battle. Had he been suffering down there that whole time?

She had returned to her room around midnight, a few minutes after the stranger had spirited the boy away. It had only been about ten minutes after that when the captain had knocked on their door to inform them that there were three unconscious guards being taken to the infirmary and the boy prisoner was gone. The entire castle was up in arms over the situation. She and Frederic had been politely ordered to stay in their room until further notice. It had given her plenty of time to think.

And plenty of time to get angry.

Frederic, of course, was oblivious to her mood. She had long ago learned to control her emotions, as was necessary for a queen, and all he saw was the same calming façade she had been showing for years. He had assured her that his guards were more than capable of finding the boy and that they had no reason to worry.

No reason to worry! The thought was almost laughable. The child probably could not even stand on his own at the moment. He had been so fragile when she saw him. She could hardly believe he was the same hyper boy who used to run around at the science expos or tag along with his father to the palace every once in a while. It also seemed so implausible that he was the same bold child who had kidnapped her and threatened her family, though she could see the brokenness in his mind when he did.

Perhaps that was why she let him go. The mother’s heart in her reached out for this kid. He had been alone and hurting when he did what he did. Though she was scared of him at one point, it seemed so long ago now as to belong to a distant dream. All she saw was a boy who wanted his father back.

And she could understand that.

She remembered well the days her calm mask had failed her and she had filled her husband’s ears with rantings about what she would do to the witch who stole their daughter. She remembered the overwhelming drive to go out there and hunt her down herself. She remembered the despair that had crushed her spirit in the dark nights when she had dreams of holding her baby close to her and woke up to find her arms empty. She remembered the fleeting hope that would strike her anytime she saw a tiny head of blonde hair flitting through the crowds and the agony that replaced that hope every time she was wrong.

Yes, she understood Varian. Perhaps better than anyone. Fred, bless his heart, was not compassionate to criminals, especially those who came after his family. All he saw in Varian was a threat.

Was that why he had allowed Varian to be treated the way he had been? In a desperate attempt to eliminate a threat? Why had he not just had him executed, if that was the case? He had promised to help Varian. Why hadn’t he?

Now it was the morning after, and Arianna and Frederic were in the throne room listening to the captain’s report. One guard had been found outside Varian’s cell, and the other two were in the courtyard. There was no evidence of tampering with the lock, and it appeared that either Varian or his accomplice had managed to get ahold of a key.

“We’ve got patrols already searching beyond the wall, Your Majesties. Wherever this boy is, I feel certain he won’t make it far. And his accomplice won’t be able to fight off an entire group of soldiers at once. We’ve already got wanted posters for both of them. The accomplice’s are based off Stan and Pete’s description. They both have concussions, however, so we can’t testify to the posters’ accuracy.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Frederic responded. “I trust you and your men to bring these criminals to justice.”

The captain seemed to hesitate. “There’s more, Your Majesty.”

“Go on.”

He glanced around nervously. “Stan and Pete also informed me that they saw Her Majesty outside last night talking to the accomplice right before they were attacked.”

Oops.

She met her husband’s inquiring gaze confidently. “I was out for a walk last night, and I did happen to see a man and speak to him.” She kept her hands folded in her lap properly to hide the shaking.

“Was he carrying a child, Your Majesty?”

She nodded. “He was. He claimed that he was out for a walk with his nephew, and the child fell asleep.”

“Did you happen to recognize this man?” Frederic asked.

“I did not. He was a stranger. I saw no reason to doubt him.”

“Your Majesty,” the captain asked, “Were you present when the man attacked Stan and Pete?”

“I was. It was my impression that he feared for his nephew’s safety. I assumed that’s why he ran. The gentleman was most polite to me, and we had a wonderful discussion before we were interrupted. I told the doctor that Stan and Pete were in need of assistance before I returned to my room. That’s when you came and informed us that Varian had escaped. I confess I was rather shaken by the news and didn’t think to discuss the stranger with you.” She put a hand over her heart in a perfect display of “strong vulnerability,” as her mother always called it.

That seemed to do the trick. Frederic took her other hand in his. “I do apologize for the distress this has caused you, my dear. Captain, do you have any more questions for her?”

“No, Your Majesties,” he responded awkwardly. “I apologize, my queen.”

“That’s quite all right. I’m grateful we have such dedicated men taking care of the situation. Now, I’m rather exhausted from all this excitement. I believe I’ll retire to the library for the time being.”

“Of course!” Much to her dismay, Frederic then asked for two guards to accompany her. He was taking no chances as long as this “dangerous fiend” was on the loose.

Arianna mentally prepared herself to handle upgraded security measures forever. With any luck, the child would never be found.

She certainly hoped not.

O‴O‴O‴

_He’s not coming back._

_He has to come back! He left his bearcat here._

_And you think his bearcat can’t leave you and go find him? That was probably the plan._

Left alone to his own devices, Varian’s mind immediately sent him through a convoluted gymnastics routine that left him spinning. Why would Hector bother to come back? Varian had murdered Quirin. Hector was probably long gone. And if he did come back, it would probably be with the guards in tow. He had only rescued Varian because he didn’t know what he did. And if he did come back, how would he react to learning Varian committed treason?

And that comment about Varian hating himself. Sure, it had been offhanded and unintentional, but it was the truth. Varian could remember a lesson his dad taught him years ago. _Stand up straight. Look people in the eyes. Hold yourself with dignity. If you can’t respect yourself, others won’t respect you either._ Well, Varian had absolutely no respect for himself.

Deciding that this thought process was getting him nowhere, he quickly started making plans. If Hector did not come back, Varian would be left alone. He at least needed to be able to stand. Walking would be nice, too. And if he did sell Varian out, perhaps he could run and hide. Having come to this conclusion, he pushed himself up into a seated position. The movement hurt, but pain was a sadly familiar friend. The one friend that never seemed to leave, at least not in the last few months.

Seeing him try to rise, Kiki strode over and offered his back as support. Varian waved him off. He wanted to do this himself. He was only able to stand for about a second and a half when he fell over. Kiki was immediately under him, keeping him from hitting the ground. His left arm smacked against Kiki’s side when he fell, and bursts of pain shot through it. Gritting his teeth, Varian righted himself and took a few shaky steps. Keeping his right arm over the bearcat’s back, he walked for about thirty seconds before a wave of exhaustion passed over him. Kiki nudged him back towards his pallet and helped him sit without falling. He smiled up at the bearcat. “Thanks, bud.”

The familiar words, spoken so casually, stabbed like a dagger into that open void in his heart. He missed Ruddiger. He missed his friend. If Hector came through, if he found Ruddiger, Varian was giving the little raccoon an entire bushel of apples, along with an apology for using him in his plot. He deserved better than that.

Thinking of those he left behind brought his mind back around to the one point that threatened to break him every time it crossed his mind.

His dad.

With time to reflect, Varian though, not for the first time, that he knew very little about his dad. Quirin was always close-lipped by nature. He never talked about his life before his family. Never talked about where he came from. Never talked about the fact that he had _siblings_.

Apparently he had at least two adopted siblings. Hector and… what had he called their sister? Adira? And they came from a place called the Dark Kingdom. And if all that wasn’t enough, his dad was a _knight_! His dad, with muscled arms that would put a wrestler’s to shame but that gave the best hugs, with work-hardened hands that were somehow so gentle when bandaging Varian’s injuries, with reflexes quick enough to catch him every time he fell, was a _knight_!

His dad, who was now currently trapped in an amber prison of Varian’s making. Possibly dead.

He may have still been alive, of course. There were nights when Varian curled up with his head resting on the amber, trying desperately to feel close to his dad once more, when he could have sworn he heard a heart beating behind the wall that separated them. But it may have only been his desperation, his overwhelming desire to feel _anything_.

How had Varian missed the signs? Of _course_ there was more to his dad than he thought. The mysterious chest with the symbol on it—the same symbol Hector wore on his cloak. The graphtyc sitting on his bedside table, containing the scroll piece that told of the Sundrop. The fact that “Secrets” appeared to be his middle name.

Would he ever get a chance to truly know who his father was?

Hector was his best chance. If he returned, Varian would ask him about it.

As well as asking him about the _very_ suspicious-looking cloak stashed in the bag he had left behind.

Varian stared at the piece of cloth in shock. He had casually reached into the bag to find the water, and instead he found _this_! The material was clearly fine, not something an ordinary person would wear. No, this must belong to royalty or nobility. And… was that gold threading along the edges? From the design, it looked like a lady’s. What was a brusque, burly warrior doing with something like this? Did it belong to his sister Adira? Varian didn’t know much about women, but even warrior women liked to wear nice things occasionally, right?

It was still too hot to try to put the blanket back over himself, but the cloak was just right, and within a few minutes he was fast asleep.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector raced into Old Corona just before sunset. The guards stationed at the hole in the wall completely missed the bearcat jumping from tree to tree until it soared over the barrier and landed noiselessly on the other side.

To no one’s surprise, there were already wanted posters of Varian tacked everywhere, as well as a poster for “The Mysterious Accomplice.” Some idiot had tacked two of these posters to the back door of Quirin’s house (the front door had been sacrificed to either the black rocks or Varian’s open floor plan; it was hard to tell which). And great elephants, whoever was drawing these posters needed to be fired! Varian looked okay, if not a bit menacing, but Hector’s carefully braided hair was all wrong!

There were guards patrolling around, but it took very little skill to avoid them. Honestly, was this the best Corona had to offer? No wonder a scrawny fourteen-year-old had almost managed to beat them. Hector slipped inside the house and quietly shut the door behind him and Riki. “Stand guard,” he ordered the bearcat. Then he slunk through the house and to the bedrooms.

The last time he was here, he had only taken a brief glance around before finding Quirin in the lab. And he hadn’t been expecting to rescue a child. Now, however, he could get some much-needed supplies. Finding a room that was more than likely Quirin’s, he took note of the unopened chest near the wall, the mark of the Brotherhood standing out against the lid. _Getting sentimental, brother? You swore us off, remember?_

Crouching down beside the chest, Hector slipped off his glove and placed the back of his hand against the Brotherhood symbol. A small click sounded from inside the chest, and the lid popped open. With a sad smile, Hector examined the remains of a life left behind twenty-five years ago.

The armor was the first thing he noticed. It was dusty and worn, unlike how Quirin used to keep it. He was always the one nagging Hector about keeping his armor in good condition. The helmet had a long scratch on it. Apparently Quirin had meant it when he said he was done with the life of a soldier.

The next thing was his sword. Hector lifted the blade out and examined it. Still in good condition. He laid it off to the side to take with him.

The third item was a framed picture of the three siblings. Ouch. Yes, that was definitely coming with him. Varian might like to see that. The Brotherhood had been so young!

Piece by piece, Hector unpacked his brother’s chest, feeling like he was breaking some unspoken rule. Some items, like a golden bracelet (a gift from Adira, if he remembered correctly), were mementos of sentimental times. Others, like the lock picks stashed near the bottom, were more practical. In the end, Hector repacked everything except the sword, the lock picks, the picture, and a cloak that looked like it might fit Varian with a bit of tailoring.

He left Quirin’s room and went to Varian’s. The second he entered, he smiled. This room was a haven of oddity, with random items Hector couldn’t identify if his life depended on it scattered everywhere. Many of them looked dangerous. Most of the room looked to have been destroyed in the black rocks’ rampage, but Hector did find a few books lying around. He stuffed them into his bag. He briefly considered bringing the guitar in the corner, but they had to travel light. Then he crossed to the wardrobe. The clothes were mostly in good condition, if a bit worn. He picked up a shirt and examined it. There were careful patches in it, the stitches small and dainty. Clearly someone had put time and effort into it. A second patch on the same shirt had stitches that were larger and less neat, but Hector could easily recognize them as Quirin’s work. Leave it to his brother to use the same kind of stitches on a shirt that he did on battlefield injuries.

He stuffed several outfits into the bag. They would do for now, but he was still getting the kid new stuff. As he turned to go, he heard a scratching noise on the wooden floor outside the door. A gray, furry _thing_ flung itself into the room and straight for Hector’s face. It only made it partway before his hand snatched it by the scruff of the neck midair. The thing continued to hiss and claw at him in vain, twisting in his grasp.

“You done?” Hector asked. The thing quit struggling and stared at him skeptically. “You must be Ruddiger, huh?”

The raccoon chittered in response.

“Hmm. Your boy misses you. Want to see him again?”

Ruddiger glared at him suspiciously.

“Relax. I broke him out of prison last night. He wanted me to come pick you up. You coming or not?”

The pet sized him up for a minute. Hector was struck by how much his expressions reminded him of Varian. Finally, he nodded and allowed Hector to place him on his shoulder.

Making his way toward the door, Hector suddenly froze. The sound of guards talking reached him from the living room, and they were getting closer. _Nice, Riki._

Even better, he recognized them.

“…Dunno. I mean, why would he come back here? There’s guards everywhere!”

“Well, the raccoon ran in here. That probably means he came back. Why would he come here unless the kid came back?”

“Umm, because it lives here?”

“We at least need to look around just to say we did.”

“And if he is in here? He’s little, but he did kinda kick our backsides during the fight, remember!”

“Oh, he’s not the one you boys need to worry about.” Hector stepped into the living room, a feral grin splayed across his face.

The guards’ faces fell as they recognized him. “Not again…”

Thirty seconds later, man, raccoon, and bearcat were back over the wall and racing back towards the campsite, leaving behind the same two unconscious guards as the night before.

O‴O‴O‴

It was early in the pre-dawn hours of the next day when he and his furry companions made it back to the campsite. Leaping off Riki’s back, Hector grinned as he looked over at his nephew. The child was curled up with the queen’s cloak, looking as peaceful as a babe. Kiki was curled up next to him. The bearcat purred happily as his brother and human returned.

He hated to disrupt the peaceful scene, but his excursion into Old Corona was bound to turn some heads. On the way back, he had very nearly run into a guard patrol out looking for the escaped child. While the glade was relatively secure, the sooner they left, the better. The guards were probably only a few hours out.

And a certain raccoon was getting impatient to see his boy.

As soon as Ruddiger saw Varian, he leaped off Hector’s shoulder and raced towards him. He plowed into his human’s side, waking him up with a gasp of pain.

That was when Hector realized he had forgotten to explain what had happened to Varian.

The boy immediately curled in on himself, his arms over his head. His entire frame trembled. Ruddiger drew back in shock, then glared at Hector accusingly.

“Crap! Don’t give me that look, rat. I didn’t hurt him.” He knelt down next to Varian and spoke softly. “Hey, kid. It’s okay. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Varian’s breathing slowed, and he uncurled just enough to look up at Hector. “Hec…”

“It’s okay. I brought a friend.”

Ruddiger popped his head into view. Varian gasped and uncurled the rest of the way, gently picking the raccoon up with his good arm. “Ruddiger?” Tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his face. “Ruddiger! It’s you! I can’t believe it!”

Ruddiger chirruped happily and nuzzled into Varian’s chest, eliciting another yelp of pain. The raccoon pulled away and chittered nervously. He looked his boy up and down carefully and glared at Hector again.

“Easy, pest. He was like that when I found him. Actually, worse.”

“’S okay, Ruddy,” Varian said as he scratched his pet’s ears. “Hector’s nice. He saved me.”

“Yeah, speaking of, we gotta go. You good to travel?”

Varian nodded. “I’ll manage.” He tried to get to his feet. Hector instinctively reached out a hand to help him up, causing Varian to flinch away.

“S-sorry,” the boy whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Hector’s heart shattered. “Don’t be,” he responded immediately. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Hmm?”

Hector sighed and sat next to Varian, still at a safe enough distance. “You don’t have to apologize for having these instincts. You can work on them around people who want to help you, if you want, but you don’t ever have to apologize for having them. It’s not your fault.”

Varian seemed to consider those words. “But… I did—”

“Kid, if you say you did bad things and you deserved what they did to you, I’m gonna scream.”

The child didn’t answer for a minute. Then he held out a trembling hand. “…Could you help me up? Please?”

His breath caught in his throat. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” He stood and offered his hand once more. Varian hesitantly took it. It did not escape the warrior’s notice that he was shaking. As Varian stood, Ruddiger climbed up to Hector’s arm and extended his tiny paws to his human, who helped him climb onto his shoulder. The child seemed to stand straighter and more confidently with his little friend curled around his neck.

“I missed you, buddy,” he whispered happily. Then he turned to Hector with a shy smile. “Thank you. For everything. I forgot to tell you earlier.”

“Eh, no problem. Don’t get sentimental; you’ll make me cry. No one wants to see that. Anyway, we have to leave. We can rest a ways down the road.”

Varian nodded. “Okay. How did you find Ruddiger?”

“He found me.” Hector started picking up the remains of the campsite. Varian started to help, but he waved him off. “He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me going through your stuff.”

“You went through my stuff?”

“Yep. Grabbed you some clothes and a couple books. Flynnigan Rider, or something like that. And a cloak of your dad’s. Figured we could trim it to your size.”

“That reminds me. Who does that belong to?” He pointed to the cloak he had been sleeping with.

“That?” He had almost forgotten the queen’s gift. He picked it up and started to fold it carefully. “It’s from Her Royal Majesty, apparently.”

Varian stared at him incredulously. “You stole the queen’s cloak?!”

“What? No! I ran into her during our escape. She put it on you. Something about not letting anyone see your hair.” He glanced back at the kid, who was staring in shock. “You good?”

“She… I don’t understand. She helped me escape?”

“Yeah. I thought it was weird, too. Something about some guy named Fred treating you wrong.” He placed the folded cloak back in the bag.

Varian visibly flinched at the name. “…Yeah. That would be His Royal Pain.” His eyes widened. “Sorry!”

“Hey, you don’t got to apologize for that. If he gave the go-ahead for them to do _that_ to you, talk trash all you want. It’s therapeutic.” He grimaced. “Let me guess. They didn’t exactly let you badmouth him?”

“Ehh, no. That was off-limits. Along with talking in general. But I don’t understand! Why would Queen Arianna help me?”

“Why not? Clearly her husband has a severe case of little-man syndrome. And she seemed like a reasonable sort. I wonder if it was an arranged marriage?”

Varian started to laugh, then bit his lip.

“Kid, you can laugh. It’s fine.”

He couldn’t hold back after that. “I’ve never heard anyone disrespect him like that! The only person who even dares is King Trevor of Equis, and he’s an even littler man than King Frederic! Well, I mean, he is less of an absolute trashbag, but still!”

Hector grinned. It was amazing to hear Varian laugh. And the look on his face as he freely and openly insulted his tormentor! “You ain’t seen nothing. Half the stuff I could say would bring Quirin down on my head.” His eyes widened as he realized that was probably not the right thing to say.

To his surprise, Varian didn’t look hurt. He just tilted his head curiously. “Do you…could you maybe tell me about my dad? He didn’t exactly talk much.”

Hector finished packing up and looked back at his nephew. Of course Quirin would have told him nothing. He hadn’t even told the kid about the Brotherhood. “Yeah. Yeah, I can tell you about him. What do you want to know?”

Varian’s eyes went wide, and he responded in excitement, “Everything!”

Hector laughed then. “Everything, huh? All right. It may take a while, but I suppose we’ve got time to kill on the road. We’d best make tracks, first.” He motioned for Varian to get on Kiki’s back. “You need a hand?”

Varian nodded. “Please.”

Kiki crouched down, and Hector helped Varian climb on his back. “You okay to ride by yourself?”

He nodded. “I’m good.”

“’Kay.” He climbed on Riki’s back. The bearcats were powerful, capable of running for days on end without stopping. “Let’s go.” Riki and Kiki lunged forward, and Hector smirked slightly as he heard Varian’s started yelp behind him.

Then he sighed. Two days ago, he never would have considered the possibility that he was going to be taking care of his nephew. He had never even met him! Somewhere along the way, that had changed. Now he was… ugh, getting _attached._

Ah, whatever. So he was somewhat fond of the kid. Adira would laugh her head off if she could see him now.

For better or for worse, he was keeping the kid. And blast anyone who tried to take him away.

“Mr. Hector, sir?”

Hector looked back to Varian, who was clinging to Kiki’s fur with his good hand. He seemed to be handling himself okay. “Yeah, kid? And you don’t have to call me mister.”

“Did you ever decide where we’re going?”

Ah, he’d forgotten to explain that. And he had made that comment about leaving Varian somewhere.

_Idiot. The kid thinks you’re planning on ditching him! This whole time you’ve been making plans, and he thinks you want to get rid of him!_

“Yeah, yeah. We’re headed back to my place.”

“Really?” He didn’t miss the shock in the kid’s voice.

“Yeah. You’ll like it. Big tree. Lots of scrolls. You’ll have a blast.”

Varian was silent for a moment. Then he asked, “Did my dad ever go there?”

“A time or two. He wasn’t a fan.” He grinned. “I believe I promised to tell you everything about him?”

Varian’s smile was bright enough to outshine the sun itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say I really appreciate all y'all's comments and love for this story. It's overwhelming! I'm trying to respond to every comment, so please be willing to be patient with me. I truly appreciate how y'all've encouraged me!
> 
> I'm coming down to the end of my pre-written chapters, so my updates will be a little slower. I tried to space them out so I wouldn't feel as much pressure to write quickly and maybe sacrifice quality (and my schoolwork), but I keep getting impatient! Please bear with me as I try to work out my schedule.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	4. Start of the Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian and Hector reach the first town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to make two apologies.
> 
> Firstly, I meant to be adding trigger warnings at the beginnings of my chapters, and I completely forgot. The chapters have now been edited to include them. I apologize if anyone was affected by this.
> 
> Secondly, this is the second story I have written where I described Varian as anorexic. It was my understanding that anorexia was just a lack of eating or not being able to eat, but a dear reader informed me that anorexia typically is caused by a negative self-image that makes a person not want to eat. I did not do enough research on that ahead of time, and I apologize. That chapter has been edited as well.
> 
> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mentions of violent injuries, nightmare

“…So then he says to me, ‘That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Make Adira do it!’”

“He did not!”

“Did too. Your dad was like that. Always insulting the amazing plans we made and trying to ‘fix’ them.”

“Did it work?”

“…Usually, yes. Anyway, then Adira says, ‘why should I do it? This was all Hector’s idea!’ Ad Quirin says, ‘Well, weren’t you the one bragging five minutes ago how you were the most agile out of all of us?’”

They had been traveling for several hours, with Hector regaling Varian with tales of the Brotherhood. The three had been troublemakers in their youth, apparently. Varian was in awe at the contrast the stories presented between Quirin of the Brotherhood and the father he thought he knew. Throughout the stories, though, he could still see the same calm, collected figure who had been there his entire life. Time may have changed him some, but not completely.

The current story was a narrative of a time Hector had been captured by bandits as a child, and Adira and Quirin had decided to go after him themselves instead of getting the adults to help. As Varian listened to how Quirin had recklessly thrown himself at a man twice his size when he saw Hector’s injuries, he couldn’t help but wonder what his dad would have thought of the way he was treated in prison. He had always staunchly defended Varian, even if he was constantly disappointed in him. The alchemist had always known he was safe as long as Quirin was around. But for the worst days of Varian’s life, he had been gone. And it was Varian’s fault.

He blinked away tears and tried to focus on the story. Ruddiger, who sat in front of Varian on Kiki’s back, curled around Varian’s right hand comfortingly. The alchemist smiled. He had missed his friend. He couldn’t pet him right now—his hand was gripping Kiki’s fur tightly to keep from being thrown off, and his left arm was in a sling—but he refused to be separated from him. He had already apologized profusely for getting Ruddiger involved in the first place.

Being separated from Ruddiger was one of the worst things they had done to him. He had been scared and alone, and they had taken the only friend he had left from him. It wasn’t enough that he no longer had his dad. No, they just had to make it worse. Ruddiger had been there to help stave off the nightmares that plagued him. He had been there to remind Varian to eat and sleep and drink water. During Quirin’s absence, Ruddiger had stepped up to take responsibility for the distracted alchemist. And they had taken him away and left Varian to suffer the nightmares alone, to fall into the darkness of his mind that reflected the darkness of his cell.

He had no way of knowing what would have happened to him if Hector had not rescued him. The never-ending agony had threatened to shatter his mind, and the guards had promised to shatter his body. Without the luxury of a trial, he had no clue what they were planning to do with him. Would they have left him forever in that hole, tormenting him at their whim, or would he have eventually been given the sweet release of death?

He was distracted by his thoughts and almost failed to notice when the bearcats slowed to a stop at the crest of a hill. He looked over at Hector questioningly.

“There’s a town just past here. Vardaros, I think it’s called. Coronans usually don’t come out this far, not even the guards. It would take them almost a week, so we should be safe to spend the night. If you don’t want to risk it, we can camp out again.”

Varian considered the question. “Is it safe?”

“It’s Vardaros. The answer is no. But you’ve got me with you, so you’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

They raced on. As the town came into view, Varian tried to hide his nervousness. He had only just escaped; there was no way anyone here knew that. But what if they’d heard of him? What if they recognized him and tried to have him arrested?

“Easy, kid,” Hector growled. “I can feel you panicking from here. Put this on.” He reached into a bag and pulled out a cloak, tossing it over to him.

Varian took the cloak but froze when he recognized it. “This…this was my dad’s.”

“Yeah. I told you I grabbed one of his.”

He stared at it for a minute more before pulling it around his shoulders. He remembered putting it on several months ago as a way of feeling closer to Quirin. It had hung loose on him then. Now it felt like a blanket. His tiny frame had shrunk even further thanks to malnourishment.

As they passed the archway at the edge of the town, Hector went rigid. “What the dickens?” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Varian looked around to try to find the cause of his companion’s confusion. Nothing seemed to stand out as odd. It looked like a normal town, if not a bit worse for wear. Several buildings appeared to be under construction. A few of the townsfolk wandered around, chatting amicably. The place was clean and seemed respectful enough.

“Something’s not right,” Hector grumbled. “Just stick close. Don’t look anyone in the eye. And put that hood on.”

Varian flipped the hood over his head and followed Hector. The bearcats drew stares as they rode through the street. Finally, Hector came to a stop at what looked like an inn.

The stablehand looked more than skeptical at the presence of the bearcats, but the sight of the gold pieces Hector gave him was enough for him to overcome his hesitance. Ruddiger hopped onto Hector’s shoulders, as Varian was still too injured to accommodate the raccoon. The travelers entered the inn (Varian’s steps still stumbled, but the comfortable boots Hector had picked up from his room helped) and were immediately met by the innkeeper, a cheerful woman with red hair. She smiled wearily at them.

“Hey, strangers. What can I do for you?”

“We need a room for the night,” Hector responded. “A hot meal would be nice, too. And a warm cocoa for my nephew, if you have any.”

She nodded and motioned to a table. “Have a seat. I’ll get y’all something to eat.”

Varian nearly had a heart attack at Hector’s words. Nephew! How had he missed that? This man was Quirin’s brother, even if not biologically related. Varian had been so panicked at the thought that Hector would hate him for what happened to Quirin that he had somehow skimmed over the fact that he was his uncle!

Hector, for his part, seemed oblivious to Varian’s existential crisis as they made their way over to the table. He kept glancing around the room as if something was severely wrong. Varian decided to try asking again. And perhaps try an experiment at the same time. With Ruddiger curled up in his lap now, he took a deep breath and started, “Hey, Uncle Hector?”

Hector jumped like someone had stabbed him in the back. “What did you call me?”

“S-sorry! I won’t—”

“No, no, it’s good. Just surprised me, that’s all. I kinda like it, actually.”

“Really? O-okay. Why are you worried? What’s wrong?”

Hector glanced around as if scared they were being eavesdropped on. “As weird as it sounds, this is too nice. Vardaros used to be a dump.”

“How long ago were you here last?”

“Maybe two years? I don’t get out much. But something happened here.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a weird thing. It may mean new management in town. And that may spell bad news for us. Especially if Corona’s involved in the ‘upgrades.’”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought about that. “Is it safe for us to be here?”

“Hmm. Depends. We’ll ask and see what’s going on.”

When the innkeeper brought out plates of food and a mug of hot cocoa, much to Varian’s delight, Hector asked. “What’s going on around here? I noticed some renovations going on. The place looks good.”

The lady grinned widely. “It’s wonderful, huh? Ever since the princess came through, she cleaned the place up, and Vardaros has been blooming! She tossed the Baron and his goons out! We’ve even got our old sheriff Quaid back!”

Varian’s blood ran cold. “Princess Rapunzel?”

She nodded. “That’s right!”

“How long ago was she here? She’s not still here, is she?”

“Nah, she left a few weeks after she got here. Why, did you want to meet her?”

He tried to control his shaking. Hector saw his struggle. “Eat your food, kiddo, ‘fore it gets cold. Time for admiring royalty later.”

As the lady left, Varian tried to eat, but his stomach was in knots. Then again, that may also be because the food was more than he could handle at the moment. He’d only eaten a few bites at breakfast and lunch at Hector’s urging.

Mostly it was because of Rapunzel.

Every nerve in his body was screaming. How could this be happening? Why had she been here?

Hector sensed his discomfort. “You okay, kiddo?”

His breathing had quickened. He dropped his head into his good hand. “She—she’s the one I was fighting.”

“I know. Got the story in Old Corona. Do you want to go ahead and leave tonight? We don’t have to stay.”

“No, she’s gone… I didn’t even know she wasn’t in Corona still! Why was she here? Where is she now? If she’s still out here somewhere, if she finds me, she’ll send me back! I can’t go back… Or Cassandra may just kill me on sight! Honestly, that might be better…Or she might send her owl back to Corona with a message for the guards—” He shuddered and clutched Ruddiger close with his right arm.

“Hey. Kiddo. Varian. Look at me. Does your brain always do worst-case-scenarios as a first resort?” Varian looked up. “It’s okay. We probably won’t even see her. And if we do, she’ll have to take you back over my dead body. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

The word which should have been comforting sent Varian’s mind reeling. “Do-don’t promise. Please.”

Hector blinked in surprise. “Okay. Okay, I won’t. But I meant it. You’re going to be okay.”

Varian’s head tilted slightly. He still could not understand why Hector was so determined to protect him, but there was a feeling in his bones that felt strange and familiar at the same time. It took him a minute to identify it. When he did, he was baffled but happy.

The feeling was safety. For the first time in months, for the first time since he’d last felt his father’s arms around him, he felt safe.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector wanted to scream.

Of course a simple road trip would turn sour the first day. What the dickens was the princess doing out here? This was the last thing Varian needed! He was already in a bad enough way as it was.

After the incident at supper, Varian seemed to recover okay. They were in the room now, and the kid seemed absolutely in awe by the bar of soap sitting next to the basin of water. Hector shouldn’t be surprised, of course. The poor thing hadn’t exactly had access to such novelties in prison. Currently both he and Ruddiger had what looked like an impossible amount of soap suds in their hair. Ruddiger looked like one of those stuffy politicians with the stupid wigs. Hector had never understood those people. Did they think looking like idiots boosted their social standing? But hey, the kid and his pet were having fun, so he wasn’t complaining. Varian was actually laughing! The sound never ceased to amaze the warrior.

Varian shook water out of his hair and turned to Hector. “Uncle Hector?”

That was another sound he was enjoying. His nephew was calling him Uncle Hector! After the Brotherhood split, he had given up any hope or desire for a family. The Brotherhood was all he ever needed. He had almost managed to ignore the crushing loneliness he felt without them.

And now Varian was here. His nephew! His nephew who trusted him to protect him, who _needed_ him to protect him.

The thought scared him. Of all the things he had been tasked with protecting in his life, Varian was by far the most important.

“Yeah, kid?” he responded, keeping his voice casual to not betray the mini-crisis he was having.

“Why did you come to Old Corona in the first place?”

“I heard about the fight. Wanted to visit Quirin. See if he was okay.” Crap! Varian was making that face again. “That’s not what I meant! Sorry.”

“No, it’s—it’s good. Really.” He gave a weak smile. Then he sighed and curled up on the second bed. “I miss him. I’ve missed him so long…” He looked up at Hector. “It hurts.”

“Yeah. I know.” Hector gritted his teeth. If only there was some way to help bear this burden! All he could do was be here for Varian for as long as he needed. He was older and more hardened. He had dealt with loss for years. Quirin’s death hurt like nothing he had ever felt. But Varian didn’t have the luxury of being a battle-hardened warrior who could compartmentalize his emotions. He was suffering, and Hector couldn’t even put a hand on his shoulder, couldn’t hug him, couldn’t be a shoulder for him to cry on. All thanks to the Coronans.

They had taken a broken child and thrown him in jail. They had beaten and abused him and broken his spirit. Instead of offering condolences for his loss, they had offered scorn and rejection.

And now that princess, the princess who fought against Varian, the princess who was _flawless_ according to the people he had spoken to in Old Corona, was out in the world. And Hector knew exactly where she was going.

He had heard the reports from the villagers. She had controlled and manipulated the rocks. And she had unleashed them against Varian. As much as he hated to admit it, Adira might have actually had a point. The thought made him shudder. Whatever the case, he needed to get back to the Tree as soon as possible. For both his mission’s and Varian’s sake.

But could he take Varian back to the Tree if the princess was going that way? Was it worth the risk of bringing the two of them face to face if it meant he got to keep his nephew with him?

There was _absolutely_ no way he was leaving the kid alone. He’d hide him somewhere if the princess came to the Tree. And this Cassandra person Varian had looked terrified of would have another thing coming if she tried to kill him!

Speaking of taking care of Varian… “Hey, kiddo, we need to get your bandages changed.”

“Hm? Okay.” Varian sat up on the edge of the bed and wrapped his good arm around himself. It was a gesture Hector had noticed he repeated often. The warrior-turned-medic rooted through the bags and pulled out a roll of bandages and several medicines.

“You need help with your shirt?”

He could see the inner war going on in Varian’s mind. The child was incredibly independent. It burned him to need help. Hector could relate to that. But a busted-up arm made it very hard to be independent. Plus taking his shirt off was a sign of vulnerability. Finally, Varian nodded. Hector helped him slip the shirt off and unwrapped the bandages.

He had to control his anger when he looked at Varian’s torso. It was badly discolored from bruising and broken ribs (thank goodness the bearcats ran smoother than horses—Hector could well imagine what putting the kid on a horse in his current condition would do to him!). Several severe wounds, some of which Hector had treated for infection, broke the skin. He could easily identify marks from both blades and whips. Some of the wounds were from burns. And some of those scars…

“Hey, kid?” Hector tried for a nonchalant tone as he applied medicine to the injuries.

“Yes sir?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m curious about these scars. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Varian shuddered. “I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice had suddenly become strained, and his shoulders hunched slightly.

“’Kay. No problem.” He finished taking care of Varian’s chest and moved on to his arms. Each scar told a story. Hector, having been a soldier, could read most of them. It was those unidentified marks that gave him concern. So far, none of his treatments had bothered them, but he was worried about treating them wrong. The last thing he needed was to aggravate them more. But he would not push Varian for information before he was ready.

After tending to the boy’s feet and legs, Hector reached into the bag and pulled out another vial of medicine. Varian groaned as he recognized it. “No complaining,” Hector ordered. “Your fever’s going down, but you still need to take your medicine.”

Varian pouted but reluctantly swallowed the medicine. “That stuff tastes like what it feels like when my foot falls asleep. Plus rotten fruit.”

“Yep. Old remedy I learned back in the Dark Kingdom. Get some sleep, huh?”

“Yes sir.” The boy curled up under the blanket with Ruddiger beside him. The raccoon was being incredibly gentle with his human. Varian’s eyes fluttered gently as he started to drift off. Hector sighed and tapped his chin.

“Shut your mouth. Bad habit.”

Varian shut his mouth and smiled softly. Within seconds he was blissfully asleep. Hector shook his head and crashed on the other bed. How had anyone been cruel enough to hurt this child? It made no sense.

Idly, he picked up one of the books he had grabbed at the house. It seemed interesting enough. Some adventurer was going off on a journey to find a lost blah blah blah… It reminded him of some of the stunts he and his siblings used to pull years ago. They never would have been such amateurs, though. Rider got himself caught because he didn’t hide his horse well enough! Seriously? If this was what Varian was learning from, Hector had a lot of teaching to do.

He rolled his eyes as he read through a dramatic fight scene. His trained eye immediately picked up seven errors just in the first few paragraphs. Yes, Varian was definitely getting trained by a proper knight. He’d probably start him off with a staff, then get him a practice sword. He would also need to learn basic hand-to-hand combat, just in case. One could never be too careful.

Ironic, he thought, that he of all people would be worried about being careful. He could hear his siblings dying of laughter. But hey, taking care of a kid did that to a person.

About twenty minutes after picking up the book, he dropped it suddenly. Varian was twitching violently, his teeth clamped down on his lip to keep from making noise. Hector crossed over to him as Ruddiger shot up and chittered frantically. The raccoon patted Varian’s face in an attempt to wake him up. Instead of helping him, it caused Varian to whimper and curl up further.

“Kid? Hey, Varian, look at me. I need you to wake up, okay?” Hector hovered over Varian, hesitant to touch him. “Come on, V, look at me!” Unable to hear him, Varian remained trapped in his nightmare. Hector gritted his teeth, scooped Ruddiger up into his lap, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Varian, kiddo, I’m here. I don’t want to touch you, so I need you to help me out, okay?”

It wasn’t working! Usually with his siblings, he would either just let them sleep through it or shake them slightly. Neither seemed like a good option here. If Varian was having a prison dream, the last thing he needed was to keep sleeping. And Hector wasn’t sure how he would react to being touched, much less shaken.

He had to do something, though. If Varian kept thrashing, he would mess up his arm and ribs. “Sorry, kid.” He reached out a hand and gently nudged Varian’s shoulder. The child moaned and twisted away from Hector. “Crap. Okay, I’m going to regret this.” He took a deep breath and shook Varian’s shoulders more aggressively. “Varian, wake up!”

With a terrified gasp, Varian’s eyes shot open. They were hazy and unfocused. He scrambled away from Hector in a panic.

“I’m sorry!” Hector hissed. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

The boy’s breathing was erratic, and his gaze dodged around the room as if unable to comprehend where he was. Tears coursed down his face. Then he noticed Hector and Ruddiger. He gave a wild cry and lunged forward, clutching Hector’s fur-lined cloak with one hand and pressing his forehead against his leather breastplate. Ruddiger chittered soothingly to the child. Meanwhile Hector sat frozen, unable to do more than blink in surprise.

His first instinct was to put his arms around the child, but he refrained. Varian reaching out to him was one thing, but he still didn’t think touching him would go over well. So he sat still and allowed the child to cry. After a few minutes, Varian’s breathing slowed, and he pulled back and brushed his hand across his eyes. “So-sorry,” he whispered.

“You’re okay. Really. Sorry I had to wake you up.”

“Thank you.” He shuddered. “For, um…waking me up—thanks.”

“No problem.” Big problem, considering the second mental crisis he had just had, but he certainly wasn’t telling Varian that! “Do you need to stay up for a while, or…”

He shrugged. “Usually I only get one nightmare at a time.” His voice held a forced casualness to it that Hector didn’t like. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you need me to get you anything?” _Why does the kid analyze his blasted nightmare habits?_

He shook his head. Then he pointed to the book Hector had dropped on the floor. “A-actually, can you read to me, please?”

“Sure.” He picked up the book and flipped it open. As Varian pulled the blanket back over himself, Hector started to read, stopping occasionally to throw in sarcastic commentary on what the writer did wrong. He glanced over at Varian after a few minutes and saw the boy’s frown. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m good. Just…” He sighed. “I met a guy once who used to go by Flynn Rider. We, uh… didn’t get along.”

“Do I need to stop?”

“No, no, it’s good. ‘S not like he was the _real_ Flynn Rider or anything.”

“’Kay.” He kept reading. After a few minutes, he looked back down to find Varian and Ruddiger fast asleep. He closed the book gently and put it on the nightstand. Then, ever so carefully so as to not wake him up or even touch his skin, Hector brushed Varian’s bangs away from his face. “’Night, kiddo.”

Varian mumbled something in his sleep that might have been “Good night.” Hector put out the lamp burning beside the bed and crashed on his own again.

_How the dickens did this situation escalate so quickly?_

Soon, they would reach the Great Tree. They would discover the princess’s plan. And Hector would do everything in his power to make sure no royal or guard ever caused his kid to get nightmares again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I'm doing my best to estimate how long it would take for regular people to travel as opposed to how long it takes Hector to travel. Time is sort of strange in the series, so please let me know if I get something wrong. It took the gang about a week to reach Vardaros, but since Hector has the bearcats and also a wanted criminal nephew, I'm assuming he'd book it and maybe reach Vardaros in about two days.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	5. The Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian and Hector meet strange people in the woods. It goes about as well as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehh, so part of me feels like this chapter is trash, but the other part says "post it anyway because the next chapter should be great." 
> 
> Trigger warnings: panic attack, pain

“ _What is that?_ ”

“What’s it look like? It’s a hawk. Never seen one before?”

“I _know_ it’s a hawk. What’s it doing in here?”

Hector put a hand to his heart dramatically. “Well, you didn’t expect me to leave her outside, did you?”

It had been about five seconds since Varian had woken up and found a bird of prey staring into his eyes. Ruddiger had leaped up upon seeing the bird and hidden behind Varian’s back. “Is she yours?”

Hector smiled proudly. “Nope! She’s yours.”

“What?”

“Well, I remembered you said that Cassandra lady had an owl, so I figured you could maybe use an attack bird of your own!”

Varian blinked. He had said that, hadn’t he? He hadn’t known Hector had caught that. He had been panicking at the time and rambling incessantly. “She’s… she’s mine?”

“Yep! Here, hold out your hand.”

Varian immediately tensed. Hector’s eyes widened. “Sorry! Sorry. I got you a gauntlet so you could hold her.” He held out the leather gauntlet. Varian started to apologize, then stopped. He took a deep breath and took the gauntlet. Ruddiger, trembling though he was, crept out from behind Varian and helped him pull the gauntlet on.

“Thanks, bud.” He’d missed being able to say that.

“Here.” Hector slowly held out his arm to Varian so the hawk could step onto Varian’s instead. She looked at him with dark, intelligent eyes and tilted her head slightly. Varian grinned and repeated the motion.

“When did you get her?”

“Earlier this morning.”

In surprise, Varian glanced out the window for the first time to judge the position of the sun. “What time is it?”

“Around eight-ish. Why? You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Just… not used to sleeping in. Actually, not even used to sleeping in a bed.” He gasped and clamped his mouth shut. “Sor—” he cut the word off. No, Hector told him to stop apologizing.

“Well,” Hector stated with what was definitely forced cheerfulness. “We’re gonna be on the road for a while, but when we get home, we’re definitely getting you a proper bed.” He turned and started packing up.

Home. The word sounded strange to Varian. Home had always been back at Old Corona with his dad. Then “home” had turned to “house” when his dad got trapped, and “house” had turned to “prison” when the masked men showed up shortly after the blizzard. But could he really leave it behind? Maybe to never return?

_There’s nothing there for you now. Just a jail cell and a world of hurt._

But how could he be expected to start over completely with a man he didn’t know in a place he had never been?

What would happen if he stayed?

As the realization of his situation started sinking in, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He had been too much in shock from the rescue to think about what he was leaving behind. His entire life had been in Corona. Everything and everyone he had ever known. His father was trapped there, waiting on Varian to find a solution—

 _Stop it!_ He could no longer hold onto that hope. If he did, and he was wrong, it would be like losing him all over again. They all said he was dead, anyway.

But if he was right? What if his dad was still alive, and he never went back? What if he was trapped eternally in an amber prison because Varian was too afraid to return?

“You okay?” Hector’s voice brought him back to reality. “Do you not like her?”

Varian shook his head. “No, I like her! She’s great. Really. Thanks.”

Hector’s yellow eyes bored into his. He hadn’t noticed before just how strange his uncle’s eyes were. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

The desire to tell Hector what was bothering him warred with the cautious side of him born from pain and rejection. If he told, Hector might decide he wasn’t worth it and leave him behind. But if he refused, he may not get the chance until it was too late.

Unfortunately, the sad fact of the matter was that he needed Hector. He had no way of surviving on his own, and he would just get sent right back to the same hole he was pulled out of. Which meant he couldn’t tell. Besides, there was nothing he could do to help his dad if he was stuck in prison.

But Hector had been trustworthy so far. He had been the first person in so long that Varian _wanted_ to trust, to tell what was bothering him. If Varian told, Hector might understand and be willing to help him anyway. But could he take that risk?

“Kid?” Hector was watching him as if afraid he would fall apart if he took his eyes off him.

“It’s… it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Clearly Hector didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push him, for which Varian was thankful. “’Kay. Here, I’ll hold her so you can get ready.” He took the bird and set a napkin wrapped around something on the bed. “I got breakfast for you. Eat up. We gotta make tracks.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” He started getting ready to leave.

“Did some asking around. The sheriff, Quaid, is a bit of a stickler for the rules.”

“Well, he’s a sheriff.”

“Yeah, and you’re an escaped convict. Not saying he knows about you, but we’d best get out before he starts asking questions. We blend in like oil in water.”

Hector finished packing while Varian got dressed and brushed his teeth. As horrid as he’d felt over the last few months, it was incredible the difference a change of clothes made. Hector still had to help him slip his shirt on over his splint, but he felt more put-together than he had since his arrest. His uncle had also somehow gotten ahold of biscuits with blackberry jelly, which reminded Varian again of the happy days before the disasters that resulted in him committing treason.

They paid the innkeeper, got the bearcats from the stable (where the horses were pressed up against the wall in fright), and left town about fifteen minutes after Varian had woken up. True to his word, Hector wasn’t taking any chances.

“’Kay, so we might have a small problem,” Hector informed him as they rode out, the hawk riding on his shoulder. “Where we’re headed, the Great Tree, I think your little princess might be headed that direction.”

“WHAT?!”

“Don’t panic. I’ve got some ideas. It’ll take her a while to get there, so we’ve got some time. We can travel faster than them since we’ve got Riki and Kiki—” here the bearcats growled their approval— “So we should reach the Tree in about three months. Maybe a bit more, since you’re injured. Now, the lady at the inn told me the princess left about six months ago. I’d give her about five more to reach the tree, if she’s hurrying. When she gets there, I’ll take care of it while you hide.”

“What makes you think that’s where she’s going?” Varian was reeling over the news that he might be forced to encounter _her_ again. What if he couldn’t get away in time?

“The folks back at Old Corona said she was controlling the black rocks. That leaves only two options. One: she’s somehow connected to the Moonstone, in which case she’s going to get it. Two: and I hate to even say this, because it means I’d have to admit Adira was right, but the princess might be the mythical Sundrop.”

“She is.”

Hector whipped his head around so fast his neck cracked. “What?”

“She’s the Sundrop. You didn’t know?” His blood ran cold just thinking about it. “The power of the Sundrop flower healed her mom when she was pregnant, and _Rapunzel_ —” he spat out the name—“was born with its powers. That’s how she controlled the rocks. That’s… that’s how she stopped me.”

“Great,” Hector growled. “That’s just brilliant. That’s just what I needed. What else could go wrong?”

“Why is that so bad? And what’s the Moonstone?”

“That, nephew, is bad because it means I owe Adira twenty gold pieces. I told her the Sundrop was a myth. And the Moonstone is what causes the black rocks. It’s a destructive force of nature that formed from a drop of moonlight centuries ago. The Dark Kingdom formed around it to keep anyone from using its power for evil and to protect the world from it. But… well, the power couldn’t be contained. It was destroying the kingdom.”

Varian had more questions, but he was still hesitant to ask. Talking about his dad was one thing, but the black rocks had destroyed everything he held dear. Well, except for Ruddiger, and it was a miracle he hadn’t lost him forever, too. And Hector didn’t look happy talking about his ruined home.

They had that much in common, at least.

O‴O‴O‴

They stopped mid-afternoon by a creek in a secluded part of the woods. The bearcats tussled happily in the grass while Hector started preparing lunch. The hawk flew off to hunt.

“Will she be okay?” Varian asked as he watched her go.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. She’s wild.”

“Really? When you said you got her this morning, I thought you meant, like, from a person!”

“Nah. Found her. What are you going to call her?”

“I think… Artemis.”

Hector looked up from where he was digging through the bags. “Artemis? Really? Nerd.” He was smiling, though. Varian tilted his head. It wasn’t often the warrior smiled.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah. Can you fill the canteens? We should have plenty, but it never hurts to be careful. The water here should be good. Don’t lift anything too heavy!”

Varian picked up the canteens and made his way down to the creek’s edge. Ruddiger spotted an apple tree nearby and disappeared from Varian’s side. It still hurt too much to try to hold him on his shoulders the way he was used to doing. He had tried, but it put too much pressure on his ribs. Hector wouldn’t even let him carry the lightest of the bags.

As he knelt down and started filling the canteens, his eye spotted something shining in the water. He placed the now-full canteens aside and reached into the cold creek to retrieve the object. As he pulled it out, he could see it was a small teacup, perfectly undamaged and looking for all the world like someone had simply forgotten it there after an underwater tea party.

“That’s weird.” He looked around. That seemed to be the only sign of anyone else around.

Well, that and the cheerful voices that sounded from somewhere on the other side of the creek.

He looked back to where Hector was still preparing lunch. He wouldn’t mind if Varian took a walk. Probably.

Seeing a neat little set of stepping stones, he crossed the creek and started walking through the woods. The voices got louder, and soon he stepped into a little clearing, where an elderly couple sat at a table in front of an odd little cottage.

The man was as thin as a rail, with curly red hair and a giant top hat. The lady had a wig about as big as the man’s hat and was rather on the larger side. Their table looked like a giant mushroom and held the makings of a tea party. This must be the place, then.

As he stepped closer, the woman gasped in surprise. “My, my, what have we here?” Her companion looked up from where he was pouring tea.

“Umm…” Varian held out the teacup hesitantly. He was never one for trusting people, least of all strangers in the woods who used mushrooms as tables. “Is this yours?”

She put a hand to her mouth. “My goodness, it is! Wherever did you find it, my dear child?”

“It was in the creek.”

“Oh, I’d thought we’d lost this for good,” the man intoned dramatically as Varian handed the cup to him. “Thank you ever so much!”

“Oh, it’s—” His words were cut short as the woman suddenly enveloped him in a bone-crushing, smothering hug.

And he _panicked._

Every nerve in his body revolted at being touched. Every instinct he had built over the months in prison clamored in his mind, screaming at him to _get away._ His vision grew hazy, and he could no longer breathe. His broken arm was pressed painfully against her. In an act born of desperation, he twisted around in the woman’s grasp and raked the nails of his right hand across her face.

With a startled cry, she released him. Varian dropped to the ground and scrambled away from her in a daze.

“VARIAN!” Then Hector was there, placing himself and his outstretched blade in between Varian and the strangers. “Back off, freaks!”

Varian was shaking. There was blood on his hands, under his fingernails, on the lady’s face… his head hurt and he thought he might pass out. He shut his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—"

“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear,” the woman said cheerily. Varian forced his eyes open and saw her dabbing at the marks on her face with a handkerchief. “’Tis but a scratch! No real harm done.”

Hector was looking him over. “You okay, kid?”

He didn’t answer. Passing out was still very much a possibility.

“Oh dear,” the man said. “Your son doesn’t look so good.”

“He’s not my son.” Hector’s voice was oddly strained.

“No? Hm. You bear a slight resemblance. Perhaps extended family? Either way, perhaps he might benefit from a nice calming cup of tea.” He poured one. “Our last teapot was much nicer, but that little twit came by and broke it. Selfish girl. Would you like some tea as well, my good sir?”

“Eh, we’re good.” Hector kept himself between Varian and the strangers. “We’re not keen on drinking tea in the middle of the woods with a couple of weirdos.”

The woman put a hand to her heart. “Weirdos? We’re not weird! Just unusual! Rather like your little friend here.”

Varian winced. Unusual was one of the nicer things he’d been called, especially in recent months, but one didn’t exactly want to be considered “unusual” when running for their life.

He had his fist clenched tightly to avoid the sight of the blood. It wasn’t a lot, and truthfully he’d think he’d be used to the sight by now, but it still made his head swim.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re leaving. Sorry about your face, lady. Come on, kiddo.” Not turning his back on the strangers for a moment, he motioned for Varian to move back the way they had come. Varian pulled himself to his feet and started to obey when the man spoke again.

“Oh, but wait! We haven’t properly thanked the dear boy for returning the teacup! It’s rather special to us, you know, and we want to show our appreciation!” He pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. “I admit I wasn’t sure what to do with this, as it’s rather not our color, but perhaps he may enjoy it!”

“Whatever it is, we don’t need it. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh, but we must insist!” the lady exclaimed. “In fact…”

Varian wasn’t sure quite what happened next. One minute he was standing safely behind Hector. The next, a dark cloud had sprung up across the clearing, blocking his view. The air turned heavy and murky, and his lungs struggled to pull in oxygen. Within seconds, he had collapsed to the ground. Past the ringing in his ears, he heard a larger body hit the ground near him. Uncle Hector! What was going on?

Then a hand grabbed his arm in an agonizing grip.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector wasn’t sure quite what happened. One minute, he was standing protectively in front of his nephew. The next, a dark cloud had sprung up across the clearing, making him lose sight of both Varian and the strangers. The air was a noxious fume, and he had no time to cover his mouth before his head was reeling and he dropped to his knees weakly.

_No! No, no, this couldn’t be happening! Where was Varian?_

He reached out to try to find his nephew, but his hand met only empty space. A startled yelp sounded from a few feet away. He tried to turn in that direction, but the movement left him drained and dizzy and he dropped to the ground helplessly. “V…Var…”

A sharp scream came from nearby. It quickly morphed into something else, a strange panicked screeching, more animalistic than human. What the dickens? The noise was quickly cut off, and no more sound reached Hector’s ears. No light made it past the oppressing cloud. The lack of oxygen was making him so dizzy, but he couldn’t give in, not when Varian was in danger. He tried once more to force himself to his knees. The motion was too much, and he collapsed unconscious to the ground.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian tried to scream, but something was wrong. The sound was warped and mangled, like he wasn’t even human. The hands that had grabbed him held him in place while something was wrapped around his throat. He couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. He was seconds away from passing out when a shock of pain stabbed through him, running the length of his spine. His body contorted painfully, twisting and shuddering unnaturally. He tried to scream for Hector, but his lungs were out of air. He was shifting, his bones cracking and moving and changing. What was happening to him?!

Something seemed to close in around him. His entire body felt _wrong._ He tried to reach up, to claw at the thing around his neck, to scratch the hands that held him, but he couldn’t make his arms cooperate. He was drained, weak, unable to defend himself. Tired of struggling in vain, he sagged weakly against the hands that suddenly seemed much bigger than they had been before. Despite the oxygen deprivation that stole his senses, he could vaguely feel himself being lifted up and moved. His last thought before he dropped into unconsciousness was, _This feels like prison._

O‴O‴O‴

As sunlight filtered through the haze in his brain, it brought with it a sharp pounding behind his eyes. Hector groaned and tried to put a hand over his face, but something blocked it. Something furry.

He forced himself to open his eyes and was immediately met with the sight of a whiskery face. He could faintly hear the thing screaming at him through the ringing in his ears.

“Ru…Ruddi—” He groaned and pushed himself to a seated position. The raccoon fell from his chest to his lap. He continued to frantically pester the warrior. “Whaz… whazamatter?”

The recent events rushed back to the forefront of his mind. “Varian!” He shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the spinning of his head. The movement knocked Ruddiger off him. Hector’s steps stumbled with an unusual awkwardness as he turned in a full circle to look around. Above him, on a nearby tree branch, Artemis screeched angrily, apparently rather upset over the recent events.

The smoke from earlier, apparently caused by a knockout bomb of some sort, had dissipated while he was unconscious. And the strangers had taken advantage of his unconsciousness. The clearing was empty. The strangers were gone. The house was gone.

His nephew was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is actually going somewhere. And yeah, I'm assuming Varian would know a thing or two about Greek mythology.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	6. A New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this post. I neglected my schoolwork a bit for the sake of this story, and I'm paying for it now. The chapters will probably take a bit longer to get out now. I can't afford to make that same mistake again. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, mentions of injuries

Varian hated magic.

Every time he encountered the blasted stuff, it always found a new way to ruin his already crumbling life.

Today was no exception. Why should it be?

Of course, a few months ago he would have denied that magic existed. It was just science that had yet to be explained. But he was certainly having trouble finding a scientific explanation for _this._

He had woken up in a panic, clawed his way out of the crazy lady’s arms, and had immediately taken off running, the sounds of the weirdos yelling close behind him. Something was off about him, but he could not tell what it was. He had let instinct and fear take over and keep him moving. Seeing a barn nearby, he had darted inside and curled up in a corner in the hay. The scene reminded him a lot of home, the scents and sounds of farm animals a welcome relief from the fumes of the knockout bomb and the grating voices of the weirdos.

Now if these _children_ could just leave him alone!

He hissed in anger and clawed at the little hand stretched out towards him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt a child, but he would not submit to being _touched!_ The children had shown up not thirty seconds after he had found his hiding place and had proceeded to bother him to no end.

Something was wrong, though. He remembered being drugged, and then the hands had grabbed him and put _something_ around his neck. Then he had changed somehow. Where was he, anyway?

And why were his nails so much sharper?

It only took a moment to determine the cause of his problems. And discover why the children, young as they were, towered over him. And why they wouldn’t seem to stop _trying to touch him._

Of course. Of all the things the weirdos had been able to do to him, they had chosen something they knew he would hate. They had turned him into something small children would love to pet and touch and hold.

“Kitty!” one of the little girls shrieked happily. She ran to the door of the barn and motioned to someone outside. “Sissy, come look! There’s a kitty!”

A moment later, an older girl stepped into the barn and saw him. “Oh, poor thing! Here, give the little kit room to breathe.” She shooed the other two children away, for which Varian was very grateful. “Don’t crowd him. Can’t you see he’s scared? Run to the kitchen and get a saucer of milk.”

The children rushed off. “Sorry about them,” the older girl spoke softly. “They’re just excited.”

Varian drew further back into his hiding place. No matter how nice this girl seemed, he had absolutely no intention of leaving this spot until Hector came and found him, and he had no intention of allowing her or anyone else to touch him.

_Please hurry!_

O‴O‴O‴

Hector gritted his teeth as Artemis swept down from the sky and landed on his arm with a shake of her head. “Crap.” He had searched the clearing top to bottom, but not a single footprint was left behind to point the way the kidnappers had gone. It was as if they had teleported. For all he knew, they might have.

With no way to track them, he had to resort to letting Artemis be his eyes in the sky while he, Ruddiger, Riki, and Kiki searched the surrounding forest. If they had teleported, however, they could be anywhere in the world. Hector was about five seconds from panicking. Varian was injured and defenseless against a couple freaks who had already demonstrated their willingness to do whatever they wanted, and he had no way to find them.

He raked his brain to try to find some clue for where they might have gone. Had they mentioned anything that could give a hint? They’d said something about a girl, right? One who had broken their stupid teapot. Was she someone from a nearby village?

“’Kay,” he told Artemis. “New plan. Scout out and see if there’s any towns or villages near here. We’ve got to find out if anyone knows anything about these guys. Maybe they can lead us to them.”

_Hold on, Varian. We’re coming._

O‴O‴O‴

Turns out, Varian’s determination to stay exactly where he was didn’t last as long as he had hoped. The disturber of his resting place came in the form of another four-legged fiend.

Normally, Varian had no problem with dogs. He liked them.

Varikitty apparently did not.

As soon as the dog ran into the barn and spotted him, it started barking ferociously and charged him. Varikitty screeched, and instincts he didn’t know he had kicked in. He scaled the closest thing he could find. That just so happened to be the girl. Before he knew what had happened, he had climbed up her leg and was nestled safely in her arms.

“Bad dog!” the girl snapped. “Back off!” It continued to bark and jump around her legs. It wasn’t very big, but to Varikitty, it looked enormous. Its sharp teeth were bared, and its mouth looked large enough to swallow him whole. The girl quickly carried him from the barn, much to his dismay, and towards the house sitting nearby. The last thing he wanted was to go inside, but he didn’t have the option of wiggling out of the girl’s grasp unless he wanted to get eaten.

He looked around as she carried him away. The strangers were nowhere to be seen. Thank goodness.

The two children met them on the way and ran back inside with them. The older girl brought Varikitty into the kitchen. “You two go finish your chores. The kitty will still be here later.”

Hopefully not.

With an abundance of complaining, the children sulked off. The older girl placed the saucer of milk the children had been bringing by the fireplace and set Varikitty down next to it. Grateful to have his feet—paws—firmly back on the ground, he curled up with his back to the fire and watched the girl carefully.

She sat in a chair nearby with a basket of clothes to repair and started humming softly. Varikitty looked around the room. She had shut the door behind her when they came in, and the window shutters were closed due to the rapidly-cooling weather. The place was small and homey, and the smell of something sweet came from a pot over the fire. Despite the peaceful scene, he would not relax. Nor would he touch the milk. It more than likely wasn’t drugged, but he was not going to take that risk. Not after what happened in the woods.

_I hope Uncle Hector’s okay._

The second thing he did was to examine himself. He was hardly bigger than the girl’s hand, with fur that matched the raven tone of his hair as a human. He wondered if he still had a blue streak over his eyes, but he couldn’t see. His left forepaw was crooked slightly, and it hurt to put any pressure on it.

And he was still scarred.

Of course. They couldn’t take that away, could they? They were intentionally being cruel.

Then he felt the collar.

In blind panic, he started clawing and scratching at the thing around his throat. This was what they had done to him! He had to get it off, had to get out, had to leave before they _hurt him and he couldn’t move and it was burning and it HURT SO BAD—_

The girl gasped and quickly scooped him up, holding his paws away from his throat. “Stop that, silly! If you’ve got a collar, you might have an owner. Don’t worry; we’ll find them.”

With an angry yowl, Varian wiggled out of her arms, trying not to scratch her. He landed back on the hearth and tried to still the frantic pounding of his heart. The fire behind him was hot against his back. He shuffled to the side to escape the burning sensation. The girl drew back. “Sorry, little kit. You’re a skittish one, aren’t you? I’m not going to hurt you.” She settled back in her chair and kept sewing.

Varikitty’s heart thudded painfully against his chest. He struggled to bring his breathing under control. There was no danger here. He wasn’t back in Corona. They weren’t hurting him. He was okay.

The girl continued humming, a soft tune that he vaguely recognized. The entire scene felt dreamlike and warm. As hectic as the last few days had been, what with his rescue and racing through the woods on the back of a bearcat and getting turned into a kitten, it couldn’t be such a crime to relax for a minute, could it? What would it hurt? No guards were here to add new scars to his collection. No evil king watching him suffer in sadistic glee. No crazy psychos trying to turn him into all sorts of convoluted things.

But could he afford to let his guard down? He had done so in the woods, walking away without Uncle Hector. He had done so when he trusted _her_ , and he had paid a hard price for that. No. As nice as this girl seemed, as comforting as this place was, he could not afford another slipup. He might not survive the next one. He just had to sit here and wait until Uncle Hector found him.

_And how exactly is he going to do that? You’re a cat!_

The logical side of Varikitty’s brain rapidly overtook the hopeful side. He was a cat. He had no idea where he was. He didn’t know how to change back. How the dickens was Hector supposed to find him like this?

What if _he_ had been changed, too?

Hopefully if he had been changed, he was a cougar or something strong enough to fight the weirdos.

Speak of the devil…

The door opened, and three people walked in. One of them was a woman who bore a resemblance to the girl, with red hair and hazel eyes. The other two were, unfortunately, the last people he wanted to see at the moment.

“Oh, and there he is now!” the crazy lady gasped dramatically as she saw Varikitty on the hearth. “Silly little kitten, running off like that!”

In shock, Varikitty made it all the way up onto the girl’s shoulder before realizing what he was doing. He hissed angrily from his perch and glared at them, daring them to come closer and get within scratching range. His claws dug into the material of her dress.

“Easy, kitty,” the girl said as she pulled him off her shoulder and cradled him in her arms. “What’s got you all worked up?” Varikitty tensed at being held like that, but it was unfortunately the safest place to be at the moment, so he endured it. “They’re just some friends of ours, that’s all.” She turned to the adults. “Is he yours, then?”

“He was supposed to be,” The man sighed. “Unfortunately, he can’t seem to stand us. We had hoped to keep him, but we thought maybe you children would like him instead.”

She gasped. “He’s for us?”

“Indeed!” the lady answered. “Careful, though. He does like to scratch.” She directed a smile that was downright evil at Varikitty. He could see a slight discoloration on her face where she had apparently patched the marks he had left on her with makeup. He growled. If she got close enough, he’d do it again.

“Was he in a fight? He’s a bit roughed up,” the second woman, whom Varikitty assumed was the girl’s mother, asked.

“We’re not sure. When we found him, he was a stray, so possibly. He doesn’t have a name yet either.”

“I’ll get the twins to help figure something out.”

“Call them inside, please,” the mom said. “Your dad, too. Supper’s almost ready.”

Varikitty looked through the now-open door to see twilight falling fast. How long had he been asleep? A few hours?

Over a day?

_Where the dickens was Uncle Hector?_

O‴O‴O‴

Hector swatted tree branches away from his face with his sword as he and his companions raced through the forest. Artemis flew up ahead, guiding them to the nearby village she had spotted from the air. “Hang on, kiddo, just hang on.”

He had no idea what he would even do when they got there. What was he supposed to do? Go around asking everyone if they knew about tea-drinking lunatics in the woods? If that was what it took, then so be it. He would do whatever it took, track them as long as he had to, as long as he found his nephew.

And if it meant leaving the Tree unguarded? The princess was heading that direction. She could reach it before them if he didn’t find Varian soon. Once past the Tree, there was nothing in between her and reaching the Moonstone.

A mission he had spent decades performing, or a nephew he had known for three days?

The question burned in his mind. He had sworn an oath to the Moonstone. He had vowed to keep anyone away from it, even if it meant laying down his own life. If the princess made it to the Moonstone, he would have failed. The entire world could be at risk. Was he going to risk all of that just to find Quirin’s son?

They had time, though. The princess would not make it to the Tree for another few months. If he could find Varian soon, they would be fine.

The hunters reached the edge of the woods and looked out at the farming village. The houses were spread out, with stretches of fenced cropland between them where people were out working. Off in the distance was a small town square, where he could faintly hear the soft chatter of shopkeepers and customers. Toward the far edges of the town, away from the woods, were larger farms and houses.

They approached the first farm. The man working out in the field jumped in shock when he saw the wild man with a raccoon on his shoulder and two bearcats. “C—can I help you, mister?” he asked skeptically.

“Maybe.” Hector tried to put a polite tone in his voice. As much as he despised them, manners had been a part of his training for years, and he still had a basic grasp of them. If finding Varian required the use of manners, then manners he would use. “I’m looking for some people. A rather posh-looking couple with a thing for tea, apparently. Seen anyone around here like that?”

The man shook his head. “Check some of the bigger farms. If they’re rich, they either own land or are friends with people who do.”

“Thanks.”

Their next stop was at one of the larger farmhouses. There they met with an answer just about as vague. No one seemed to quite know, but maybe someone else might, sorry.

And so the search continued. Artemis and Riki went off to scout ahead while the other three asked around. Night fell, and they were no closer to finding their quarry. With nowhere else to turn, Hector found himself in the town square, standing outside a bookstore. If this couple was involved with magic, maybe something here could give him answers.

The elderly woman behind the counter waved as he came in. “We’re closing in a few minutes, but feel free to look around. Anything I can help you find?”

“Maybe.” He walked over and placed his hands on the counter. “I’m looking for anything on magical child-snatchers. Fairies, banshees, something like that.”

“Well, if you’re looking for something like that, fairly lore would be your best option. We have a section of that towards the back.” She looked him over. “That’s oddly specific. Any particular reason you’re asking?”

He met her eyes with a dark look as he answered, “My nephew’s missing. He was right beside me talking to some people, then he was gone. They were gone. Didn’t even leave a footprint. I can’t track them.”

“Hmm.” Her brow furrowed. “Strange. Doesn’t typically sound like the way fairies operate. These people looked fairly human? And were they in the woods?”

“M-hm.”

She bit her lip. “Okay. Here’s what I can tell you. Bear in mind, it’s only rumors. Years ago, people started disappearing. No one had any idea where they went. Like you said, they were completely untraceable. I think about three people disappeared from around here. For years, no one knew what to do. We all thought they died.” She leaned closer conspiratorially. “Then, just a few months ago, all three of them showed back up. They were a bit scatterbrained, and all they could tell us was that they talked to some nice people in the woods. No one had any idea what happened. No one around here likes to talk about it, especially the families of the people. If you want to find out more, I’d suggest talking to Macy, who works at the bakery down the street. Her son was one of the kids who disappeared. If you go now, you might still catch her before she goes home.”

Hector stared in shock. Finally, a lead! “Thank you, ma’am. How can I repay your kindness?”

She shook her head. “Find your nephew.”

He nodded and bid her good evening before rushing out and heading down the street to the bakery. He found the woman, Macy, just closing up.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you have a minute to talk?” He asked politely.

She gasped at the sudden appearance of the odd warrior. “Just a minute. I have to get home.”

He nodded. “You have a son, am I correct?”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know? Excuse me; I have to go.”

Crap! “I apologize. I didn’t mean to be brusque. I spoke to the bookseller, and she recommended I talk to you.”

“What about?” She was glancing around the street as if to find someone to help her against this man. _Could you be a bigger idiot? Of course she’s nervous!_ Varian needed his help, though, and time was of the essence.

“She told me your son disappeared a few years ago and recently returned. I was hoping you could tell me something that might help me find my nephew. He disappeared in the woods.”

Immediately her gaze softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago did this happen?”

“Just this afternoon.”

She glanced around one more time before finally saying, “How do I know I can trust you?”

In answer, he slipped off his left glove to reveal the symbol etched onto the back of his hand. “You have my word as a knight and a concerned uncle.”

This seemed to satisfy her. “Fine. Follow me.”

O‴O‴O‴

_He’s not coming._

True, it had only been a few hours, but Varikitty had already resigned himself to that fact. Hector was not coming.

After his initial shock with the strangers, he had caused such a scene that the girl—Mandie, he had learned was her name—had been forced to shut him up in her room. This was fine by him. The further away he was from them, the better. Unfortunately, he also learned they were spending the night.

Mandie had rejoined him later, finding him huddled up under her bed. He would not move, even when she tempted him with bits of chicken. As hungry as he was, he was not moving. Finally, she had given up.

Now it was late at night, and he was prowling around his new abode. He was met with one rather pesky problem: the haze over his right eye that he had been able to successfully ignore for the last few months now stood at a sharp contrast to his new and improved night vision, resulting in him running headfirst into one of the legs of the table. Ouch.

He had discovered one other nuisance. He could not get the collar off. No matter how hard he scratched and pulled, it was fixed firmly around his neck and would not budge. It was loose enough that it did not strangle him, but just the fact that it was on him bothered him to no end. Eventually, he had given up and resigned himself to wearing it.

Stumbling through the room, Varikitty made his way over to the door. It was shut fast once more, effectively trapping him. He struggled to control the pounding of his heart. It wasn’t so bad here, right? It was small but spacious, not at all like his cell. He would be okay. Right?

He explored every inch of the room. Not a single way out. The girl’s bedroom had also been fixed shut. The open slats on the shutters allowed air in but were too small for him to wiggle through. He eyed the fireplace as if he could crawl the entire way up it and escape. Not a chance.

He limped over to the hearth and curled up, the embers warm near his fur. The realization that Hector was not coming did not surprise him. Instead, it fit perfectly, like a puzzle he would rather have not completed. Simply put, Hector had no reason to come. From the minute the warrior had found him, he had been nothing but a nuisance, a problem. He was distracting from his mission. More than likely, Hector was on his way back to the Tree to confront the princess.

And where did that leave him? This wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Once the weirdos were gone, he could try to relax a bit. If this was to be his new home, perhaps he could start being a bit nicer to the children. As for being touched…well, he still didn’t like that idea, but he would probably be forced to adjust.

He found there was no bitterness at the thought that Hector would not come. The man had better things to do, and he hoped he succeeded. Protecting the Moonstone was important. More so than a missing kid.

No, no bitterness. Just a deep, aching loneliness in his heart.

O‴O‴O‴

Macy led Hector to a small house just outside the town square. As they entered, Hector saw a young boy sitting at the table. His eyes widened as he saw the warrior. “Who’re you?”

“Hector.”

“I’m Abraham.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Macy shut the door and kept her voice low as she said, “Look, no one really likes to talk about what happened back then, but if you think it can help you find your nephew, we’ll try.” The two adults sat at the table with Abraham. “It happened about four years ago. Abraham went for a walk and didn’t come back. When we went looking for him, there was nothing. It was like he dropped off the face of the earth. Then he showed back up a few months ago.”

“What happened in the meantime?”

Abraham shook his head. “I don’t know. I remember meeting some people in the woods, and then I came home, and Mom told me it had been years.”

“What were these people like?”

He thought for a minute. “I can’t really remember. They were rich, I think. They had a big house. Oh, and they were drinking tea. They gave me some.”

Hector worked rapidly to fit the pieces together. Rich strangers in the woods who offered tea, people who disappeared and reappeared years later, the remark the man had made about a girl breaking their teapot…

“What do you remember after that?” he asked.

The boy shook his head. “I’m not sure. I remember being really happy over something, then I was going back home. I felt weird, though, like I couldn’t walk right.”

“They said other people disappeared and came back. Do you know if they know anything more?”

Macy shook her head. “Like I said, no one likes to talk about it.”

“Is there anything more you can tell me?”

They looked at each other then shook their heads. “Sorry, mister,” Abraham said. “Wish I could help.”

“Thank you anyway.” He stood to go.

“Wait!” Abraham suddenly gasped. “The dreams!”

“What?”

“After I got back, I kept having weird dreams. Like I was flying. Sometimes in my dreams I was a bird. Other times I had giant wings. I never got those dreams before. It felt right, almost. Like that was what I was missing when I tried to walk.”

Dreams that occurred after a space of four years of memory loss… Struggling to walk but having dreams of flying… Physical transformation, perhaps, caused by drinking magic tea?

“You should probably stay here tonight,” Macy said. “It’s late, and you can’t hunt anything in the dark.”

Waiting grated on Hector’s nerves, but there was no trail to follow anyway, and these people had more answers than anyone else. “Thank you.”

_I’m coming, Varian. Just stay strong. I’ll find you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned to make this arc only two chapters, but it will extend into a third. This is mostly for the sake of exploring Varian and Hector's mindsets still. I plan to have quite a bit of exposition before the travelers reach the Tree, as that is when the action will become much more extreme. That's why I was willing to take more time on a minor arc. If anyone has any advice on pacing, I would greatly appreciate it. That's still what I struggle with the most.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	7. The Beast Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new life in front of him, Varian tries to make the best of it and forget his past.
> 
> Hector faces a choice as the darkest parts of himself are revealed to be the ones he has clung to all these years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't like putting OCs in my fanfic, so hopefully this will be the last chapter I do so. Unfortunately, I needed them for the plot.
> 
> Trigger warnings: blood, panic attacks, injuries, one offhand expression about jumping off a bridge but please do not do that it's just a saying my parents used for years so I added it

Before the morning sun even rose over the farm, Varian’s—no, Scratch, they had decided to name him— hunger finally got the better of him. If he was going to adjust to his new life, this was as good a place to start as any. He slipped back into Mandie’s bedroom and dug his claws into her blanket, using it to clamber onto her bed. He then swatted her face with his paw and meowed until she woke up.

“Umph.” She groaned and tried to roll over. He tumbled over her shoulder and continued to bat at her. “Whaaaat.” She sat up and spotted the kitten beside her. “Oh, good morning, Mr. Grumpy. Finally decide to be peaceable?” He meowed again. “Okay, okay, I’m up. You hungry? You didn’t eat anything last night, so I’m not surprised.” She got out of bed and started to change clothes, and Scratch buried himself under her covers. Cat or no, he was raised with more manners than that.

He followed her into the kitchen, where she gave him a saucer of milk and some cold chicken. He scarfed it down quickly, having not eaten since the morning before. Not that he wasn’t used to going hungry, of course.

“You know, you could always hunt,” Mandie stated bluntly. Scratch meowed in indignation. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m gonna feed you, little kit. But you probably do need to start trying to hunt, or Dad might think you’re not worth keeping around.”

Hunt? The thought made Scratch shudder. He didn’t know if he could handle sinking his teeth into raw flesh, to feel a heart beat its last in his mouth, to taste the hot blood on his tongue.

“Well, now that you’ve gotten me up early, might as well get started on the chores. Want to come with me?” She motioned to the door.

Last night, if given that option, he would have bolted. He would have run for the woods and tried to find his way back to Hector. He also more than likely would have been killed by some wild creature.

Now, though, he was attempting to settle into his new role as a pet, so he kept close to Mandie’s ankles as she opened the door. They started out towards the chicken coop, the basket in Mandie’s hand swinging by her side as she sang cheerily. The motion of the basket drew Scratch’s attention, and he jumped up and tried to swat at it. As he came back down on his injured paw, he yowled in pain.

Mandie gasped and turned to him. “Oh, poor little Scratch. We need to get that wrapped until it heals. Here, want me to carry you?” She extended a hand to him, moving slowly and keeping just far enough back that he wouldn’t claw her.

Scratch hesitated. His paw ached like the dickens, but he still had some dignity left.

Then the dog rounded the corner of the house and ran towards him. He scrambled straight up Mandie’s arm until he was once again positioned on her shoulder. _I wonder if this is what Ruddiger feels like?_

“You two will have to learn to get along eventually,” the girl chided them. She petted the dog, then shooed him off. “Go on, mutt.” The dog hopped around her legs for a minute more before running off. Then they continued on.

The chickens were still nestled down when they arrived to collect the eggs. Scratch tried to balance on Mandie’s shoulder and keep from disturbing them, but his careful attempts to keep from clawing the girl resulted in a loose grip on her. He leaned too far forward and slipped off, landing on the back of one of the hens. With a startled squawk, the hen sprang up and scrambled around the coop, the startled kit still on her back. Out of reflex, his claws dug into her feathers, only serving to further the chicken’s panic. The others, frightened by the sudden action, stampeded around the enclosure.

A pair of hands suddenly swooped down and snatched him up. He found himself once more in Mandie’s arms as she tried to calm the birds. Realizing the futility of the action, she quickly exited the coop and shut the door behind them. She leaned against the wall and sighed.

Scratch trembled in her arms. Just when he thought he could start over, this happened! He couldn’t even be a cat properly. They’d get rid of him now. Maybe give him away. Maybe throw him to that stupid mutt. He deserved as much.

Soft laughter broke into his thoughts. He looked up to see Mandie’s face, surprised to find a smile there. She wasn’t mad? The girl slid down the wall of the coop till she was seated on the ground, the situation that was so condemning for Scratch apparently hilarious to her as she continued to laugh louder.

“That was amazing!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen them like that ever!”

She wasn’t mad! The realization hit him like a chemical explosion. Maybe he wasn’t a complete disaster. Could he actually make this work?

There was only one way to find out.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector was up before the sun, intent on resuming his search before the gap between himself and his target widened any further. To his surprise, he found Macy already up. Bakers rose early.

“Good morning,” she greeted, the same wary tone she always had evident in her voice. Hector wondered if it was because of him or if she always sounded like that. Probably the latter, given the events her son had been through. “I’ve got breakfast almost ready.”

“Thanks, but I’m leaving,” he answered. “I’ve got to keep looking.”

“About that.” She but her lip in a gesture that reminded him so much of Varian that it hurt. “There’s something I didn’t tell you last night.”

Careful not to appear to eager, he motioned for her to continue.

“There was a woman with Abraham when he returned. I didn’t talk about her because he can’t remember anything about her. It always upsets him when he can’t remember. He’s not back to the way he used to be yet.”

“Who was she?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t leave her name. Just told me that she found Abraham wandering in the woods. She said she found him days away from here instead of hours like he said. He told her where he lives, so she brought him back. I remember she had face paint. And white hair, but she looked young.”

_Oh, you’ve got to be kidding._

“Thank you. You didn’t happen to see which way she came from, did you?”

She nodded. “She told me she found him off to the northeast, which was strange because he went for a walk west of here.”

So they moved around a bit then. Right. “Thank you. Tell your son I said it was nice to meet him.”

“I will. I hope you find your nephew.”

“Me too.”

He left the house and motioned to Kiki, who was curled up behind the house. They hadn’t wanted to startle the nice lady who could help them find the kid. “Let’s make tracks. We’ll search northeast.”

They raced out of town and into the woods on the other side from which they had come. A few days northeast was the Forest of No Return. It was a good place to hide a kid.

O‴O‴O‴

Scratch quickly settled into his new life, far more easily than he would have expected. Maybe it was the way this place reminded him of his old home. Maybe it was how the girl was always humming or singing something that brought his memories to happier times when he was younger and innocent. Maybe it was the way Mandie’s gentle hands found that perfect spot behind his ears.

The weirdos had left after the first day. Thank goodness. After that, it was easier to relax. The children, at the urging of their parents, were more careful when they tried to pet him. As much as he despised being touched, he tried to reward their care by sitting still and not flinching. As the days went on, it got easier and easier. He had almost forgotten why he didn’t like touch.

He was still skittish and easily startled. The dog stopped messing with him when it got too close and found its nose clawed up. He accidentally scratched the kids’ dad once when the man reached out to pet him on his blind side.

The third night, the weather had gotten too cold to try to keep sleeping by the dying fire. He curled up next to Mandie’s shoulder. He did the same every night after that.

Still, his mind was screaming that this was all too _easy_. He never should have been accepted like he was: so unconditionally, so wholeheartedly. Then again, they didn’t know his past. They didn’t know the evil things he had done. All they saw was a kitten who needed a home.

As for his problems with touch, it was weird how quickly he seemed to get over it. He chalked that up to part of the creeps’ spell. Maybe they had done something to make it easier for him. But why? The collar also ceased to bother him after a day or two, and he stopped scratching at it.

His skeptical mind tried to analyze all of this strangeness, but it gave him a headache. Eventually, he chose to stop questioning. He would accept these strange blessings and try to make the best of his new life. It was time to put the past in the past.

He wondered once or twice over that week whatever happened to Hector. Had he gone back to the Tree? Would he stop the princess from crossing?

Thinking like that always put him in a bad mood, though, so he tried not to. It was time to start over. Hector was going to go back to his mission, and Scratch was going to pretend he had never met him.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector needed to get back to his mission.

The Forest of No Return was on the way to the Tree. If he found Varian there, he could snatch him up and get back home before the princess with a month or so to spare.

And if he didn’t find him?

What if Varian was somewhere off in the complete opposite direction? What if Hector wasted all this time looking for him and he was somewhere far, far away? Could he backtrack maybe for months to find him? What if it took four years to get him back?

_We’ll jump off that bridge when we get to it._

Right now, he had a potential lead. He would run it to the end of its trail and figure out what to do from there.

The hunters had been traveling for four days. Artemis and Riki had caught up with them shortly after they left the town, their hunt having proved fruitless.

The thought of perhaps needing to leave Varian, as much as it stung, left him with another problem. Ruddiger. There was no way the raccoon was leaving his human. He had hardly been separated from Varian’s side this whole time after the rescue. Now Varian was gone, and Hector was left to take care of the critter. Ruddiger would never agree to accompany him if he left Varian behind.

If it came to that, and he truly hoped it didn’t, Ruddiger was a raccoon. He could survive on his own, and he could keep looking for Varian. He was smart. Not wise, certainly, but smart. Like Varian. They’d be okay.

_You absolute monster. How can you even tolerate the thought of leaving that kid out here somewhere alone? Quirin would never._

_Yeah, well,_ he reminded himself, _Quirin left. He put other things above the mission, and look where that got him._

Hector knew a thing or two about loneliness. He loved his animal companions, of course, but they weren’t quite the same as the people he had grown up with. Eventually loneliness had shifted to bitterness. That they left, that they betrayed the mission, that they abandoned him. At first he tried not to give in to that, but there was no one around to see it anyway (except his pets), so why shouldn’t he be bitter? Bitterness helped to distract from the loneliness, after all.

But with Varian, that had changed. Suddenly Hector had a family again. A nephew. Someone who needed him to protect him. Someone he could talk to and tease with and share stories with. Someone who saw the world through bright blue child-like eyes and made Hector want to know what he saw. After twenty-five years of missing the others, suddenly fate had seen fit to bring him this kid. His kid. And now he was thinking of leaving him?

But decades of service had taught Hector one thing very clearly. He could never have what he wanted. Ever. His every breath had been dedicated to the Moonstone for so long. It was the same reason he had lost his siblings in the first place. He was dedicated. They were not. He was faithful. They were not.

Service to the Moonstone came with sacrifice. He had known that since he was a child, younger than Varian. When he swore his oath, he had understood that he was committing to giving up any desires of a family or life outside the bounds of his mission. If his responsibility meant that he had to leave Varian behind, could he do it?

More than just how it affected him, however, was what this would do to Varian. He had no idea what the boy had been through. He knew it wasn’t pretty. If Hector left, he was abandoning a child who needed help. Who needed protection. Who needed a family. Leaving him behind would be the worst thing Hector had ever done. Varian would never forgive him.

Hector would never forgive himself.

And yet the mission must take precedence. It always had. If Varian were to ever be truly safe, if he were to ever have a proper life, Hector could not let anyone take the Moonstone. Especially if “anyone” was that blasted little princess who could control the black rocks. She already had it out for the kid. The last thing she needed was full access to the powers she had already used against him once.

_This is pointless. With any luck, we’ll find the kid. We’ll get to the Tree._

_He’ll never have to know how worthless I am._

O‴O‴O‴

The Forest of No Return stretched out in front of them. Supposedly impenetrable, it was the perfect place to get lost and never be found. Or never find your way out, as the case might be. Adira prided herself on being one of the few people who had done so, getting out on her own the first time then finding a map later.

Hector would never tell her, but he had written the map.

He stopped at the edge of the swamp to examine the tree sliced neatly in half and laying across it. He knew of only one blade that could make a cut that smooth and accurate. Adira had been here recently.

Charging over the makeshift bridge and into the forest, Hector motioned for his companions to split up. He kept Ruddiger on his shoulder. The raccoon wasn’t familiar with theses woods.

It took maybe four hours to cross the forest, usually. To search it might take days or weeks.

Fortunately, their first clue came within two hours.

Kiki suddenly leaped through a nearby landpit, which disappeared behind him. In his teeth was a familiar-looking top hat. He ran over to Hector and dropped it at his feet. The warrior stared in shock.

“We were right,” he mused. “Take me to them.”

The bearcat growled and turned so Hector could mount him. Then they were off.

O‴O‴O‴

He couldn’t quite pin down when his perception of the world changed. Scratch had been more than happy to immerse himself in the new life he had been provided. And maybe that was the problem at its core.

He was happy.

In the back of his mind, something wasn’t sitting right. When he rested on Mandie’s shoulder, an odd sort of longing struck through his heart, as if remembering an old friend. Try as he might, however, he was never able to pin the feeling down. He always ended up pushing it away, contenting himself with being around his human.

When the dad pretended to act all grumpy but secretly slipped him scraps under the table, he couldn’t help but feel that he was forgetting something important, something he had to do.

When the children stroked his raven fur, when he leaned into their hands and curled around their ankles, the distant thought came to him that perhaps he should not be touched. He wasn’t sure why, and he tried to ignore it.

No matter how he tried, though, his instincts kept screaming at him that this was _wrong,_ that he could not expect it to last, that something was going to come and steal his happiness. Every good thing about his life came with a catch of sorts, a feeling that something was not right.

And every time that feeling came up, he gritted his teeth and shoved it down again. Nothing was going to get in the way of his happiness, not bad feelings or odd reflexes or the strange nightmares he got occasionally where he dreamed he was once human.

O‴O‴O‴

Barging into the clearing, the hunters were met with a familiar sight. The creeps sat around their mushroom table, the three-story house rising behind them. The only difference this time was the small cage sitting on the table and the slightly less fancy top hat on the man’s head, courtesy of Kiki’s theft. Taking in the scene in an instant, Hector hardly slowed as he leaped off Kiki’s back and vaulted the table, slamming the man into one of the pillars of the porch and holding his sword to his throat. “WHERE IS HE, PSYCHO?!”

The man gasped and stuttered incomprehensibly. Seeing the woman start to reach into her pocket, Hector swerved his sword that direction. “Hands where I can see ‘em! Kiki, watch her. Now WHERE IS MY KID?!”

The man tried for a weak smile. “My good man, are you absolutely certain you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sure. Don’t make me ask a third time.”

“Why,” the woman answered with a forced casualness, “He’s right there.” She motioned to the cage on the table. Hector glanced that way, and his breath caught in his throat.

In the cage sat a small kitten. Its frame was battered and scratched, and its blue eyes, one clouded over, were staring off into the distance as if the entire world around it was invisible. It swayed gently back and forth as if in a trance.

“What. The Crap!” He shoved his blade closer to the man’s neck, threatening to draw blood. “What did you do to him?”

“We gave him a gift,” the woman said bluntly, as if she couldn’t comprehend how this wasn’t obvious to the warrior. “He’s happy! Why would you want to take that from him?”

“He’s a CAT! He’s supposed to be a kid! How do I change him back?”

The man rolled his eyes. “I don’t see why you’d want to. We’ve given him a perfect Utopia inside his mind. He has everything he could want. To break the spell, you’d be bringing him into a world where he’s in pain. That’s cruel!”

The words, apparently intended to make Hector falter, fell short of their goal. The kid didn’t need to be locked in a trance. He needed to be himself! “How do I change him back?”

“The spell is two parts,” the woman explained. “The collar turned him into a cat. Taking it off would bring him back to the way he was. The trance… well, that’s a bit trickier. He’d have to _want_ to come out of it.”

“How can he do that if _he’s in a trance?!_ ”

“Like Mother said, it’s tricky,” The man no longer looked threatened by Hector’s blade. He was smirking infuriatingly.

“Make it untricky,” Hector snarled.

“Unfortunately, that’s out of our hands,” the woman laughed cheerily. “If I were you, I’d forget it. He’s better off the way he is.”

Hector roughly threw the man to the ground and turned to the cage on the table. He was bringing his nephew back if it was the last thing he did. He split the blasted thing in half with his blade and gently pulled the kitten out. “Varian? Varian, kid, if you can hear me, I need you to wake up.” He placed the little critter on the table and examined the collar. Maybe turning him human would help break the trance.

Before he could, he heard a howl of pain. He whirled around to see Kiki limping, his leg bloodied.

Where the weirdos had been were two lions.

Crap.

O‴O‴O‴

His world shattered around him.

Everything had been so simple. The strangeness he had been analyzing wasn’t bothering him the way it had for the first little while. Nearly a week had gone by in his new home, and he couldn’t remember a life before it to compare it to, so he was fine.

That had all changed when he tried to make his first kill.

He remembered what Mandie had said. He needed to hunt. And so he tried. He was out in the barn when he saw the little mouse scampering across the floor. Instincts kicked in, and he threw himself at it. Catching the creature by his sharp claws, he bit into its leg before he quite knew what he was doing. It was almost as big as he was—which wasn’t very big—so it managed to wiggle its way away from him. He leaped at it again, this time catching it by the back of the neck.

That was when he tasted the blood.

Blood, covering his tongue, on his lips, in his throat. He gagged and released the mouse, who scampered away. The copper tase filled his senses, the harsh smell sickening him.

_His mouth was filled with blood, his ears rang, the guard kicking him was saying something… He couldn’t hear, couldn’t respond, couldn’t fight back. The stone floor was stained red. The sharp pain kept him from passing out, and he wished desperately that they would leave him alone, leave him to suffer in silence, leave him to fall into the dark recesses of unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to feel anything…_

What the dickens! He jerked back in surprise, the scene flooding his mind at painful contrast to the world around him. Where had that come from?

And why did it feel more real than this?

This made no sense. He couldn’t remember what had happened before the people had found him in the woods and brought him here. Where were these nightmares coming from?

No. There was a man, wasn’t there? When the odd couple found him, there was a man with him. A man with strange yellow eyes, so bright and frightening and calming all at once. Yellow, like chemicals…

_The guard held up a vial in front of his eyes, the soft yellow glow shining across his face. “What’s this one do?” Varian twisted and writhed, but metal bit into his wrists and ankles, and the collar around his throat was strangling him, and he couldn’t breathe—_

“ _Varian!”_

His head was pounding; his lungs couldn’t pull air in fast enough; he couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating! He dug his claws into the ground to get some semblance of reality into the jumbled mess that was his mind.

“ _Varian! Wake up, kiddo!”_

His body ached; it felt like his entire frame was being ripped out of joint. Whose voice was that?

_“Kid! Wake up!”_

A sharp pain, feeling like a thousand spikes, racked his torso, and the world shattered.

O‴O‴O‴

The lioness leaped at Hector only to be knocked aside by Kiki. The bearcat landed easily, his wounded leg never touching the ground. Hector turned to meet the lion’s attack, ducking under its giant paws and rolling across the ground to land near Kiki. The warrior and bearcat, in their element in the heat of battle, squared off against their much larger opponents.

The lioness charged again, and Hector vaulted over Kiki’s back to swing at her. She dodged the blade and jumped back. Hector eyed the collar around her neck. If he could get close enough to cut it…

She seemed to realize what he was doing and deftly kept just out of reach, swiping at him but never getting close enough to strike him. Kiki and the lion tumbled across the ground, fur and grass and dirt and blood flying everywhere.

It had been a while since he had had a proper fight. Hector’s senses were fully tuned in. He could smell the metallic blood mixing with the musty fur. He could feel every breeze as the lioness continued her attack, her paws swiping inches from his face at times. He could hear the yowling and screeching off behind him from the other two, along with the soft thuds as the lions’ feet hit the ground. The sensation of landing on the hard ground, of feeling his shoulder striking the earth as he fell and leaped up and continued moving, of getting knocked aside bodily by his opponent and knocking her aside in turn, all of it sent a rush of adrenaline through him. He reigned it in, channeling it the way he had been taught as a child, using it to strike as needed without losing control or letting it do all the work.

Years of training allowed him to focus on his opponent while maintaining an awareness of his surroundings. That allowed him to hear the sudden screech from Kiki and the _thwack_ that accompanied it. Whirling around in shock, Hector saw Kiki launch himself at the lion, who now stood upon the table. The two went tumbling across the ground again. There was one noticeable absence, though; Varian was no longer where he had been.

Dodging the lioness and leaping up on the table, Hector’s eyes scanned the clearing quickly. There he was! The kitten lay limp at the base of a tree, where he had apparently been thrown by the lion.

And Hector’s heart stopped.

His breath caught in his throat.

That was his kid, laying limp and broken on the cold, unfeeling ground.

“Varian!” He ducked the lioness’s attack again, this time flipping into a handspring to land near Varian. “Varian! Wake up, kiddo!” The kitten didn’t move. Blood coated his teeth where he had apparently bitten his tongue or something.

Kiki landed in front of them, growling at the lions. They kept their distance. Hector quickly unlatched the collar around the kit’s throat. It seemed to change size in his hands, from something a small kitten would wear to something that could be placed around the neck of a human. A blue glow surrounded the boy, concealing him from sight. When he reappeared, he was the same small human Hector had grown to know and love over the last few days.

Only one problem: he still wasn’t moving.

He wasn’t breathing.

“Kid!” Hector sheathed his sword and took the risk of turning his back on his opponents. “Wake up!” He quickly pressed his hands against the boy’s chest. He had to keep him breathing!

As soon as he touched Varian, however, he yelped in pain. His eyes fluttered open weakly, dim and unfocused. He coughed and spat blood from his mouth.

Hector breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive! He was going to be okay.

As soon as Hector dealt with the vermin that had taken him in the first place.

O‴O‴O‴

As his senses returned, so did his memories. They flew into his mind in a rush, assaulting his head with horrid scenes of that blasted amber rock; the princess who abandoned him; that cold blizzard that was replaced with a cold jail cell; the blood, the brokenness, the endless, endless torment.

The gentle hands that picked him up and held him close. The warm sun shining on him after months in darkness. The harsh voice that tried so, so hard to be kind so he wouldn’t spook him. The feeling of freedom, of safety, of tentative hope.

His uncle.

He forced himself to look up into those worried yellow eyes. The color was not evil; it was not something he had to associate with pain. That color was associated with the man who had rescued him. Who told stories about his dad.

Who came back for him.

A strange sort of pain stabbed his heart at that.

He watched as Hector turned away, apparently to confront someone. He looked over and saw two lions, of all things, facing them. The beasts snarled and prepared to spring.

Hector reached up and latched a collar around his throat. He dropped to all fours as the collar’s magic did its nefarious work. Standing protectively in front of his nephew, the cougar dug his claws into the ground and crouched, ready to leap at his opponents. His bearcat stood at his shoulder.

The lion moved first. He charged at the two protectors, and Hector jumped, meeting the attack midair. He twisted and clawed until he was on the lion’s back. The bearcat—Kiki, if Varian recognized him properly—quickly combatted the lioness.

What the dickens was going on?

Seeing the collar around the lioness’s throat clued him in. They were shapeshifters.

Varian spat more blood out of his mouth and pushed himself up against the tree behind him. Back in his human form, he could feel once more every cut, bruise, and broken bone. His left arm was no longer in a sling, but at least it still had its splint. His ribs felt like they had been crushed.

The sense of longing for the world he had left surprised him. Clearly it had been a fake, an elaborate ruse meant to keep him subdued. The entire situation had been a trap. They offered him everything he wanted. A home, a family, safety, a sense of pride and happiness. And all of it was an illusion. He shouldn’t miss it. Shouldn’t want to go back. He was better off here, with his uncle.

Wasn’t he?

The creatures kept fighting, clawing, scrambling, tearing up the earth and each other with a fierceness Varian had never seen. Sharp fangs and claws, gleaming yellow eyes and tawny and gray fur, rippling muscles and iron-strong jaws, all blended together in a mesh of confusion as they bit and scratched and clawed at each other.

Somehow the lions managed to disentangle themselves from the mess and tear off into the woods as if the devil himself was breathing fire down their tails. Hector and Kiki, both covered in blood and dirt, stood panting wearily for a moment. Kiki started forward like he would pursue them, but Hector shook his head. They turned back to Varian and dropped to the ground by his feet.

Hector clawed at the collar, trying to remove it. Varian leaned forward and undid the clasp for him. As he shifted back into a human, he smiled weakly up at his nephew. “Glad you’re back, kid.” He extended a hand cautiously. No pressure, no worries. Just an offered hand.

Varian took it. They stayed like that, two injured humans and an injured bearcat, until twilight fell, simply being in each others’ presence again. That was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both our boys still have a long ways to go.


	8. Scars Unsung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt to do something nice for Varian reveals to Hector and Ruddiger that there is more to the boy than they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: self-deprecation, panic attacks, mentions of previous violent injuries

Varian hadn’t said more than five full sentences since his rescue.

That was a week ago.

And yes, Hector had counted.

Oh, the child gave plenty of monosyllabic responses when Hector tried to strike up a conversation. Yes, no, fine, eh, sure. The longest single word he got out of the kid was “whatever.”

Something was drastically wrong.

Try as he might, Hector could get no conversation out of the boy. Varian was always silent and reserved, but never like this. Hector would have thought that rescuing him would help him come out of his shell a bit, not send him further into it. Even asking him if he wanted to hear more about the Brotherhood only got him a vague shrug and half-hearted attention. Mocking the Flynn Rider books got him a slight ghost of a smile that faded as fast as it came.

He tried asking Ruddiger what was wrong. The raccoon only shrugged helplessly.

Ruddiger was the only one who could get any proper response out of the boy. His antics at least brought a smile to his face. Sometimes he even got Varian to laugh.

And, of course, there was Ruddiger himself. The raccoon wouldn’t stop glaring at Hector.

The day of the rescue, Ruddiger, Riki, and Artemis and raced into the clearing and saw the other three lying on the ground, covered in blood. Ruddiger had curled up next to Varian and started chittering angrily at Hector. When Varian had asked what was wrong—his first of five sentences to come in the next week—Hector had told him that all he did was leave the raccoon on a rock and told him not to move unless something big tried to eat him and he wasn’t sure why the critter was looking at him like that. It occurred to him then that perhaps Ruddiger would have liked to fight for his human.

So now he had a silent child, a grumpy raccoon, and a wounded bearcat to try to deal with all at once. Kiki’s injuries were not severe, but he didn’t need to be carrying a child, no matter how small he was, so Hector managed to convince Varian to ride with him on Riki. Well, maybe not “convinced” as much as told. Varian didn’t argue, despite his dislike of being touched and being near people, which was Hector’s first clue that something was wrong.

Now it was a week later, and they were stopping to make camp in a small cave in a cliffside. It was small and secure, with a second opening towards the back so they wouldn’t get penned in if there was an emergency. “I’m getting firewood,” Hector stated bluntly. “Stay here and don’t move.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hector raised an eyebrow. Not exactly monosyllabic, not exactly a full sentence. He glanced over at the boy, who sat curled up beside Kiki, Ruddiger curled up beside him. Dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. At least something was speaking, because Varian wouldn’t. No matter how many times he asked how he was, the answer was always “fine.”

They were moving much too fast for Varian, at least in Hector’s professional opinion. He was still weakened from his months in prison, and their breakneck speed, while great for getting away from Corona and outpacing the princess, was not at all beneficial to the child’s health. Considering how far they had come, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to slow down a bit. Maybe they’d take a break for a day or two.

The mountain region they had entered was not as wooded as the areas they had left behind. Hector’s cautious mind warned him to stay close to shelter, as being out in the open was a recipe for disaster. Then again, their last disaster had happened in the woods, so…

Returning to the campsite with the small pile of firewood he managed to scrounge, he found Varian fast asleep. Yeah, they’d definitely need to take a break. Ruddiger looked up at him sullenly as he stepped into the cave, apparently still bitter.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the man grumbled. “We didn’t know what we were up against. How would the kid feel if you got snapped in half by a lion, huh?”

Ruddiger growled and snuggled closer to his boy.

“Whatever. Be grouchy if you want. I’m starting supper, so we’ll wake the kid up in an hour or so.” He built the fire by the entrance of the cave and started cooking some birds Artemis had struck down earlier in the day. While the meat cooked, he sat against the rock wall and pulled his latest project out of his bag. Retrieving a needle and some thread, he quickly sewed the fur he had skinned off a fox yesterday to the material. He had been working on this in secret over the last few days, whenever Varian wasn’t looking. He examined the finished work. Well, almost finished.

He retrieved a piece of wood from the small pile and started carving. The gift needed one more embellishment. Ideally, he would use metal for this part, but that would have to wait until they reached the Tree. Hector thought he had a spare somewhere. As he worked, he noticed Ruddiger watching him curiously.

“It’s for him,” he explained. “Figured he could use it. What do you think?” He held up the cloth. Ruddiger examined it skeptically, his head tilted. “As soon as it’s finished, I’ll give it to him.”

The raccoon’s eyes suddenly lit up. He scampered over to where Hector was sitting and started scratching in the dirt. He made fourteen marks with his claw. Then he pointed at Varian, chittered excitedly, and drew a fifteenth mark.

It wasn’t too hard to decipher the meaning. “He’s turning fifteen? When?”

Ruddiger scratched out four more marks.

“Four days, huh? And you didn’t tell me?”

The raccoon hissed angrily.

“Whatever. I think we can work something out.” He smirked. “What do you say, ringtail? Think we should go shopping?”

The critter grinned mischievously. Hector’s was equally as mischievous. Perhaps this was just what Varian needed to bring him out of his mood.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian was scared.

No, scratch that. He was terrified.

While they traveled, he had plenty of time to think. His mind always came back around to one point.

His rescue.

His second rescue.

How many times would Hector come back for him? How many times would Varian find himself coming between the warrior and his mission? How long until Hector decided he was no longer worth the trouble and left him?

Hector had told him all about how he found him the week before. The thought that he had been trapped in a cage frightened him, but at least he hadn’t known. He had been happy in the dream world. He had been ready to leave his past behind him. In fact, the spell had resulted in him losing his memory completely, so he had had no reason to worry whatsoever. He would have been just fine if Hector had chosen to leave and never come back for him. He had only been freed from the trance because his mind knew such happiness was false. If he had held on to it, if he had been able to convince himself that it was true, he could have lived there quite peaceably, thank you very much.

As much as he told himself this, though, he knew he was lying. He was glad Hector came. He was glad he was human once more.

And that was the other problem.

He was glad.

Truthfully, that scared him. He wasn’t used to people wanting to help him. Wanting to take care of him. The only person who did that was his dad. Varian had spent so long hardening himself to all the harshness directed his way that Hector’s kindness and compassion left him at a loss. The walls he had built had no way of stopping such things. And the lack of defense left him feeling open and vulnerable.

He had learned his lesson about trust the hard way. Every fiber of his being craved for him to put his trust in Hector, but he couldn’t. Not when the man could easily leave him defenseless in the wilderness. Not when a single unguarded thought or word could reveal the true darkness within the boy and cause Hector to decide he wasn’t worthwhile. It was only a matter of time before he was left on his own again, the way he always was.

And perhaps that would be for the better. He would no longer be a bother, a distraction. Hector would be able to go to the Tree and stop the princess without having to worry about him.

Because of this, he started pulling back. He kept his distance, not taking the opportunities that presented themselves to get to know his uncle better. The more familiar he got with him, the harder it would be when that day finally came. If this was what it took to spare himself that heartache, then so be it. It was a small price to pay to protect himself. It was the only wall he could build.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector announced that night that they would be staying at the cave for a few days. “We’re all tired. We deserve a break. And I don’t know about you, but I personally don’t like the feel of a lion’s claws on my side, and I need a breather.” His injuries from the fight were sore and achy, he claimed. Technically, that was true. But he also had a plan.

After three days, Hector and Ruddiger got to work.

“I need you to stay here for a bit,” he informed Varian. “There’s a town nearby. I need to pick up a few supplies, and you still need to lay low.”

Varian nodded before returning to his book.

“Ruddiger, come on.”

That got the kid’s attention. “You’re taking Ruddiger?”

“Just for a bit. Figured he could help pick out stuff the two of you like to eat.”

Varian watched him skeptically. Seeing this, Ruddiger curled around Varian’s shoulders affectionately before jumping off and climbing onto Hector’s.

“We’ll be back in a bit. You have Kiki. Artemis is hunting, but she’ll be around. Send one of them if anything goes wrong.” With those parting words, the conspirators climbed onto Riki’s back and disappeared.

He felt mildly guilty at leaving the kid like that, but the point of a surprise was to be a _surprise._

The town wasn’t far from their hiding place, maybe twelve miles, and they reached it in about ten minutes. They set to work, going shop to shop and picking up everything they would need. Their first stop was a clothing store. They had burned Varian’s old rags the night they had stopped in Vardaros. The kid had made the snarky comment that they provided more warmth then than they ever did in prison. And Hector hadn’t forgotten his decision to get the kid some better outfits. Nothing too fancy. The kid needed something practical. But if he happened to pick up a few things that were just a bit nicer than what one would wear as survival gear, well, no one could blame him.

At the next store, they grabbed a backpack. After that came a set of books (not those inaccurate Flynn Rider things). They kept going, Hector’s bag growing heavier and heavier. Finally, though, Ruddiger screeched excitedly and jumped off the man’s shoulder. He ran over to a store and looked in the window.

Hector followed his gaze. “Are you sure, rat?”

Ruddiger ignored the insult and pointed inside.

“’Kay. You know the kid better than me. Let’s go.” He lifted the raccoon back to his shoulder and entered the store. The proprietor gave them several suspicious glances, especially when he noticed that the animal was the one making the selections. Hector picked up everything Ruddiger selected and took them to the counter. The purchases were wrapped up in brown paper and placed in the backpack.

As they started to return, the gleam of gold metal caught his attention. He quickly stepped behind a cart as three Coronan soldiers walked past and entered a small building nearby.

What the crap were they doing here? As they disappeared, he slipped across the street and ducked into an alleyway next to the building. He spied through one of the windows as they greeted a fourth soldier. They were looking over some papers sitting on a desk.

“They’re not sure which way he went. They’re just trying to cover all their bases,” one said.

“Imagine that,” a second one added. “If we found the brat, we could probably get promoted. Say goodbye to this dump. Did you send the letter back?”

“Yeah,” the third one spoke up. “I still think it’s a waste of time. They sent the pigeon over two weeks ago, and there’s not been a single sight of the kid.”

“Well, there wouldn’t be, at least not yet.” Soldier #4 stood and started pacing. “He can’t move all that fast. It’d probably take him another week or two to get to this point, and that’s if he managed to steal a horse. Or his accomplice might have one.”

“ _If_ he’s even coming this way,” #3 said. He looked up at the wanted posters tacked to the wall, apparently having been received by carrier pigeon from the capital.

Hector drew back. He had heard enough. How had they managed to come to the one town that had Coronan guards stationed here? Whatever. He would keep Varian far, far away. And they’d be moving on soon.

They returned to the cave to find Varian still reading his book. He glanced up as they came in and held out a hand for Ruddiger, who ran over and tucked himself into the kid’s side. He waved at Hector silently.

“We should probably move out either today or tomorrow,” the man said casually. “We’re making good time, but we need to keep going. The sooner we reach the Tree, the better.”

Varian nodded absentmindedly. He didn’t even look in Hector’s direction.

Hector sighed. He knew from watching his siblings growing up that this type of silence came from an inner pain. Whatever was going on in Varian’s head, there was nothing he could do until Varian decided to let him help. Hopefully, tomorrow would bring about a positive change.

If not, he would keep being patient. He would do so for as long as he needed to.

O‴O‴O‴

The fourth day in the cave, Hector asked Varian to go get firewood. That was nothing new. What was new was that Ruddiger didn’t come with him. The raccoon shook his head and turned his attention back to the apple Hector had handed him out of the bag.

Confused, Varian went to get the wood by himself. He had never seen Ruddiger act this way. True, he was obsessed with apples, but he would usually just take it with him while he accompanied Varian. Plus, there was him leaving with Hector the day before. He pushed away the worry that tried to creep into his mind. Ruddiger was his best friend. He wouldn’t turn away from Varian, certainly. Sure, he had been mutated and used as a distraction while Varian carried out the first steps of his dark plan, but he had forgiven him!

Hadn’t he?

Varian bit his lip. He didn’t deserve Ruddiger’s friendship any more than he deserved Hector’s kindness or the queen’s mercy. That the raccoon had stayed with him as long as he had was a miracle. At least when Hector left him, Ruddiger would have someone else to go with, someone who was better at taking care of pets. Someone he deserved.

Holding the bits of wood he had managed to collect in the crook of his right arm, he returned to the cave. As he entered, he saw Hector, standing up on Riki’s back and trying to attach something to the wall. Several other somethings were attached to the rest of the walls. Were those… streamers? Where had those even come from?

Hopping off Riki, Hector turned toward the mouth of the cave and yelped when he saw Varian. “Ah, crap! You’re back! Umm… I meant, SURPRISE!” He threw something at Varian, who gasped and dropped the wood, holding his right arm up to protect his face. The something also happened to be a roll of streamers. “Crap! I’m sorry! That was dumb.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Anyway, surprise?”

Varian stared in shock. The cave had been decorated with colorful paper. Streamers had been tacked to the wall to read “Happy Birthday, Varian!” A pile of objects wrapped in paper sat nearby, a plate of cookies on top. Ruddiger was trying to sneak a paw towards the cookies. He stopped when Hector shot a glare his way.

“Wha… what is—what is this?” Varian tried to wrap his mind around this, but it wasn’t adding up. What day was this? “What’s going on?”

“Um, a surprise party. Are you surprised?”

“…Yeah. Wait, I’m fifteen? Or sixteen? I lost track of time.”

“The rat says you’re fifteen today. You just going to stand there, or are you actually going to open everything we spent hours shopping for yesterday?” He motioned Varian towards the pile of gifts.

“This… this is for me?”

“Well, do you know another Varian who hangs out in a cave with the best uncle in the world? Now open your presents. And eat those cookies before the rat steals them.”

“Raccoon.”

“Whatever. Open this one first.” Hector grinned like a child and held out one of the packages. Varian used his good hand to balance against the wall as he slid down to a seated position and took it. He attempted vainly to pull the strings tying it up, but it was difficult with one hand. Ruddiger came over and held the gift down so Varian could open it.

Inside the paper was a fur-lined cloak with a wooden clasp carved to match the Brotherhood symbol attached to Hector’s. Varian held up the cloak, his eyes wide. “This is… I love it!”

“I made it from your dad’s old one. Hope you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “It’s amazing. Thank you.” Surprised to find tears springing to his eyes, he pulled the cloak around his shoulders. Ruddiger helped him latch it. “When did you do this?”

Hector shrugged nonchalantly, though it was easy to see he was thrilled his gift had gone over so well. “Eh, here and there when you weren’t paying attention. Open the rest.”

Varian complied, opening up a set of books, a sketchbook, quill pens and ink, pencils, new clothes, a pair of boots, fingerless gloves, several small metal puzzles, a set of knives, and a bag of candy bigger than Ruddiger. Finally, Hector nudged one last gift towards him. Varian pulled the paper off to reveal a new backpack.

As he started to express his thanks, Hector said, “Open it. There’s one more present.”

Varian opened the bag and pulled out a small object made of glass. It took a moment for his mind to register what it was. Then he gasped and dropped it. It fell from his hand to the soft dirt with a thud. The startled child drew back, pressing his small frame against the cave wall. His vision blurred, and his breathing grew ragged.

“Kid?” Hector’s concerned voice sounded so distant, though he was only a few feet away. “Varian, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Ruddiger was pawing at his leg, trying to get his attention. All Varian could see was that small glass vial on the floor and the rest of the contents of the now-overturned bag…

_He was screaming. Tears were streaming down his face. The guard grabbed his hair and held him still while the second one put a heavy hand on his shoulder and pressed him into the surface of the table. The cuffs kept his hands and feet still, and the collar kept him from jerking away. The second guard brought his left hand up, the vial glowing softly. The only other person in the room was watching from a distance, off to Varian’s right. Then it was burning, burning, and he was screaming—_

_“Varian! Varian, look at me, please!”_

That voice. That voice was good. It meant safety.

_“Varian, it’s okay. I’m right here, ‘kay? I’m right here. You’re safe.”_

Varian tried to focus on that voice, but his mind had locked itself away as securely as the cell that had once held him. He was trapped inside his head, staring blindly at the vials and beakers on the ground, some empty and some filled with horrible, horrible substances…

_A hand roughly grabbed his jaw and forced his mouth open. The liquid was burning his throat, choking him. He tried to spit it out to no avail. Then the questioning began. “Did you kill your father?” He denied it. The dagger slid across his upper arm. The question was repeated. Again he denied. Again the sting of the dagger being drawn across his skin accompanied it. Over and over and over and over and over and over until he forced the lie past his lips—_

_“Varian, if you can hear me, I’m going to tell you a story, ‘kay? Once upon a time, there were three siblings. The bravest, the sister, dared her brothers to go into the tallest tower of the castle they lived at and stand in the window. The youngest brother took the dare, and late one night, he crept up the stairs to the top of the tower and opened the room. Inside, there was a single window. He stood on the very edge and looked out over the kingdom. It was so big and beautiful, and he felt like he could fly! But he lost his balance and started to fall. As he fell, he felt someone grab his wrists. He looked up to see his brother and sister holding on to him. They pulled him back inside. The sister apologized for daring him to do that, and she and the brothers promised that they would always look out for each other. They would always be there to catch each other if they fell.”_

O‴O‴O‴

Twilight fell, and Varian started coming to himself. As truly as Hector had pulled him out of that prison cell two weeks ago, now his voice pulled Varian from the cage of his mind and back to reality. Ruddiger curled up beside Varian, hesitant to touch him during his attack but wanting to provide comfort. The bag with all its offending contents was hidden. After what seemed like an eternity, Varian’s breathing steadied and he looked up at Hector. He was shaking like a leaf, and tears streamed down his face, but he was coming back to reality.

Hector breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea how to properly deal with a panic attack. Touching Varian was off limits. He didn’t dare knock him unconscious. In desperation, he had just started talking. He told stories about the Brotherhood, about the Dark Kingdom, of the time he had rescued the bearcats from the lab of an evil wizard and decided to keep them. He kept his voice steady and low, the way he would speak to a frightened animal.

Varian slowly started to uncurl from the ball he had shrunk into. He wrapped his good arm around himself and met Hector’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I d-didn’t mean—”

“You’re okay,” Hector interrupted. “Hey, don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry. I had no idea that would affect you that way. This was my fault.”

Varian shook his head. He reached out to stroke Ruddiger’s fur. The little raccoon looked as distressed as Hector felt. Apparently, he hadn’t known either.

“Thank you,” Varian continued. “I’m—I’m sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“It’s okay. As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about.”

The tears hadn’t stopped falling yet. “But you were so excited, and then I had to go and ruin it with my stupid attack, and I’m so sorry!” He hung his head.

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until Varian looked up again. “Look, that’s not what this is about. All this was was us trying to do something good for you. We just wanted to help you, to show you we care about you. So don’t worry about messing anything up, ‘kay?”

To his surprise, the boy stared at him as if he couldn’t comprehend. Had he said something wrong? He thought back over what he had told him. Nothing stood out as being problematic. Why did the kid look like he’d seen a ghost?

“You…” Varian’s voice was soft and uncertain. “You care about me?”

Often as a child in training, Hector would be up against an opponent much larger than him. This typically resulted in him being body-slammed roughly. That was exactly the way that sentence hit him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” he rasped. “Why the crap would you think I wouldn’t?”

Varian shrugged helplessly. “People… people don’t usually care about people like me. I only ever remember my dad caring. And Ruddiger.”

“King Edmund’s silk nightshirt, kid! All right, forget what everyone else thinks. I care, and that’s what matters. Got it?”

The child stared at him in surprise. Then he cracked a small smile. “’King Edmund’s silk nightshirt’?”

Hector groaned. The expression had slipped from his tongue before he thought about it, and he almost expected Quirin to slap him in the back of the head for being disrespectful. “Don’t ever tell anyone I taught you that, ‘kay?”

Varian nodded solemnly. Then he burst out laughing. Hector sighed and shook his head, though he too was grinning. “Your dad hated when I said that. Told me I was being ‘insubordinate’ or something like that.”

Varian brushed his hand over the Brotherhood symbol on his cloak. “He was the one who chose you and my dad and Ms. Adira, right?”

Hector tried not to laugh. Of course Varian would call her “Ms. Adira.” “That’s right. He’s a good man.”

His head tilted slightly. “Why did he choose you?”

“My skill. I was a top warrior in the Dark Kingdom by the time I was seventeen. That’s when he picked me. He also saw my dedication.”

“To what?”

“Everything. My work. My training. My fellow knights.”

The boy bit his lip. “Is that why you chose to guard the Tree? Ms. Adira left to go find the Sundrop. My dad chose to go to Corona and start over. But you stayed.”

Hector sighed and leaned back, propping his hands behind him and stretching his legs out. “Yep. I love my siblings, but they didn’t have the same dedication to the mission. I’d’ve thought Quirin would have been the most loyal. I can’t exactly understand why he left. Adira, I kind of understand. She wants to ‘fix’ the problem. It’s still treason, though.”

“If you’re so dedicated, why’d you take time to come after me last week?”

Hector’s breath hitched. “What?”

“When the weirdos took me. Why didn’t you just leave?” The boy’s gaze was searching, curious.

“Truthfully? I don’t know. I was worried I might have to. I didn’t want to. I told you, I care about you.”

Varian nodded. His eyes had started to flutter closed. Given the recent events, Hector couldn’t blame him for being tired.

“You hungry? It’s getting late.”

He shook his head.

“Maybe we’d better get some sleep. We’ll head out in the morning, ‘kay?”

Varian nodded. He tried to stand, but he was still shaking. Hector motioned for him to stop. The man retrieved the pallets from where they had been shoved towards the back of the cave and pulled them forward. The child curled up with Ruddiger and wrapped his blanket around himself as if it could keep out all the dangers of the world. The sight made Hector smile fondly. No matter what the boy had been through, he was still just a child.

Hector placed a few more sticks on the fire and leaned against the cave wall. Something about alchemy had caused a negative reaction for Varian. Even Ruddiger didn’t seem to know why. He would need to make sure to keep anything like that away from the kid. He’d throw out the supplies in the morning.

“Uncle Hector?”

He turned to look at Varian, who was watching him through half-closed eyes. Well, eye. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad he chose you.”

His throat constricted—more than likely from allergies, not at all from emotion; there was so much pollen around here—and he responded, “Thanks, kiddo.”

O‴O‴O‴

Varian listened until he heard Hector’s breathing change to indicate he had finally fallen asleep. He sat up and nudged Ruddiger. The raccoon stretched and yawned, grumbling when he saw it was not morning.

Quickly pulling a page from the sketchbook, he scratched a note from the light of the moon. He took off the cloak, folded it carefully, and placed it by Hector with the note on top. Then he picked up the backpack and held out his arm for Ruddiger to climb onto his shoulder. The raccoon chittered questioningly.

“Sorry, bud,” he whispered softly. “We can’t stay. Well, you can if you want. I mean, I want you to stay with me, but if you’d rather go with him you can.”

Ruddiger glared at him and curled tighter around his neck.

His faithfulness warmed Varian’s heart. He got to keep his best friend with him! He blinked back tears and steeled his nerves. The backpack weighed heavily against his thin shoulders, but the weight had nothing to do with its physical aspects. The sooner he dealt with that, the better.

At the entrance to the cave, he paused and looked back. Hector was still sleeping soundly. The bearcats were piled up together. Artemis was perched nearby on the bags.

He bit his lip and tried to keep from crying. All this time he had been waiting on Hector to leave him. He never thought he would be the one walking away. It felt wrong, evil, like he was betraying the only person who cared about him.

But he had made up his mind. The events of that evening had determined his course of action. He had no choice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, knowing Hector would never hear the words. Then he turned and started walking.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector always prided himself on being alert. Not much got past him, and he was a light sleeper. That last fact alone was the current problem. There was no way Varian should be gone.

His first thought upon waking up the next morning and seeing the boy’s pallet empty was that someone had kidnapped him. That was the only thing that made sense. But how would anyone have gotten in here without him noticing and snatched the child?

He knew he shouldn’t have let his guard down! Those blasted soldiers from the town were undoubtedly responsible for this. Hector had planned to set a watch that night, but Varian’s panic attack had made him forget completely. Coronan soldiers didn’t have the skill necessary to sneak past him, though!

As soon as he realized Varian was missing, he roused the animals and started looking around. There was no way anyone would get in here and get out with his nephew without leaving at least a few tracks and signs. Maybe they had sneaked through the back entrance. As he looked, his eyes fell on the scrap of paper sitting on Varian’s cloak next to where he had been sleeping. The cloak was folded neatly, not thrown about like he would have expected. Picking up the paper, expecting a ransom note, his heart slammed to a stop as he read.

_Dear Uncle Hector,_

_Please forgive me. I have to go away. And please don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, if it wasn’t for you, I’d still be stuck back there. You gave me my life back. Thank you. But I can’t be a burden on you. You said you care about me. I don’t understand why, but I believe you. Because of that, I’ve been in the way. I can’t keep coming between you and your mission. You shouldn’t have come to rescue me last week. You should have gone on to the tree. You’re dedicated to the mission, and I can’t get in the way. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me. Go stop the princess. And please don’t follow me._

_Your nephew,_

_Varian._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The harder Hector tries, the worse it seems to go. 
> 
> For the record, I am not a professional on writing panic attacks, so please bear with me if it was completely inaccurate. I have witnessed panic attacks before, but I know I'm still not educated enough on them.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	9. The Truth Will Make You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prison of one's mind is the strongest of all. Varian must choose whether to reach out and take the key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, injuries, self-hatred

As the morning sun filtered through the clouds and fog, Varian stumbled wearily to the edge of town. He had walked through the night, tripping and stumbling in the darkness, jostling his arm and ribs. One of his ankles was aching from a fall. Ruddiger had hopped off his shoulders to walk beside him.

He must have looked a sight. He brushed dirt off his shirt and combed his finger through his hair. If he was going to move on, the last thing he needed was someone deciding to pity him and send him to an orphanage. He needed to look somewhat respectable. Not that the scars crossing his face allowed for that, but hey, he was trying.

He entered the town just as people were starting to open up their shops. A few sent wary glances his way. He clenched the straps of the backpack in his hands tightly to stop them from shaking and kept walking, holding his head high.

The alchemy shop loomed on his right. Seeing the sign hanging above the door sent his heart plummeting into his stomach. No, he was ready. He had mentally prepared himself for this during his walk. He pushed the door open, the bell chiming softly, and stepped inside.

Glassware lined the shelves. Jars of powders and rocks and chemicals sat on every available surface. In one corner, a table held sets of gloves, aprons, and goggles. Books on every possible topic pertaining to alchemy were stacked nearly taller than him.

Half a year ago, the sight would have sent Varian into a fit of ecstasy. He would have gladly lost himself in here for hours. Now, though, it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from bolting out the door. He kept his eyes on the floor and walked over to the proprietor.

“Excuse me, sir?” he began politely. The proprietor turned to him. Varian slipped off the backpack and set it in the only empty space on a nearby table. He opened it to show the contents. “A friend of mine bought all this here the other day.”

The man nodded. “Tall fella, braids, had a raccoon with him?” He gave Ruddiger a suspicious look.

“Yes sir. He got this for me, but I can’t use it. I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to buy it back.”

The man nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you.”

The bell on the door chimed again. “Can I help you?” the proprietor called.

“I don’t think so,” came the response. “He can, however.”

Varian turned to see who was there. His eye caught sight of a gleaming gold uniform. He gasped in horror and stepped back, his spine now pressed painfully against the table behind him. He needed to run, to escape, to find a back door and go anywhere but here, but he stood frozen to the spot.

“Figured as much,” the soldier spoke cheerily, as if this were just a casual conversation between friends. Beside Varian, Ruddiger hissed angrily. The man gave him a sidelong glance, then ignored him. “I kept an eye on this place. Figured if an escaped alchemist would come anywhere, he’d come here.”

 _Run! Do something! Don’t just stand here!_ But he couldn’t move. He was shaking, terrified, but he _couldn’t move._ The door opened, and a second soldier entered.

The first one reached out and grabbed Varian’s arm. That broke him out of his frozen state. He drove a kick at the man’s ankle. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him loosen his grip on the boy. Varian wrenched his arm away and ran. He bolted for the back of the shop. As he ran, his brain helpfully reminded him that he was surrounded on all sides by _alchemy._ A few seconds was all he would need to cause a big enough distraction to escape.

No. He had seen what that stuff did. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out and grab the vials that beckoned to him.

Two seconds later, he regretted that. The back door was in sight. He was almost there. Before he could reach it, a body slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. He landed on his broken arm with a pained scream. His vision started to blur, and his chest ached as he tried to draw in breath. The soldier who had hit him grabbed him roughly by his right arm and yanked him to his feet, throwing him over his shoulder easily. The last thing Varian saw before losing consciousness was Ruddiger struggling in the grip of the second soldier.

O‴O‴O‴

_I didn’t tell him. Why the crap didn’t I tell him?_

Hector would never forgive himself if anything happened to the kid. He had neglected to tell him about the guards, figuring it would frighten Varian. Besides, he had trusted him not to go off on his own.

But Ruddiger! Ruddiger had seen them, too. Had he just forgotten to warn the kid? He wasn’t sure how good a raccoon’s memory was.

He and the animals raced through the woods, reaching the town in about half the time as it took them the other day. It wasn’t fast enough, in Hector’s opinion. If Varian had walked through the night, he probably would have made it just before dawn, depending on what time he left. Given that the only thing he had taken with him was the backpack, it wasn’t too hard to guess that he would head straight for town and try to sell it back to get some money for supplies. He probably wasn’t expecting Hector to follow him, given the contents of the note.

The words of the note were burned into Hector’s brain. How long had Varian felt this way? Why the crap had he told the boy about his dedication to the mission? Had he made him feel irrelevant because of that? He never should have told him about his doubts on whether to go after him or not. He had been a fool, and now Varian could pay the price.

If those guards left a single bruise on his nephew, he was going to end them.

O‴O‴O‴

His arm was throbbing. His head was pounding harder than the thunder of horses’ hooves. If only the blessed relief of unconsciousness would ease his pain! But no, life was determined not to give him even that temporary reprieve.

As he awoke, Varian gasped in agony and wrapped his right arm around himself as if that could protect him. The sun was shining directly onto his eyes. He tried to roll over, but the stabbing pain in his chest made him regret it. He twisted his head away from the light and tried to look around.

In front of him was a set of bars.

With a yelp of pain, Varian sat up. Where was he? Where was Ruddiger?

The answer to that last question came from somewhere nearby. The sound of angry screeching caught his attention, and he stumbled to his feet and limped over to the bars. He was in a sort of holding cell, it appeared, and on the other side of the cell was an office. On the desk sat a cage with a very irate raccoon in it. Ruddiger stopped yowling when he saw Varian. He pressed himself against the cage, trying to get closer to his boy.

Varian’s breathing quickened. How had this happened? How had the guards found him? They should have outpaced them by weeks! A four-day delay shouldn’t have cost him that much ground. His eyes fell on the wanted posters against the wall at the back of the room.

Of course. This was a Coronan outpost. As soon as his escape was discovered, the king would have sent messages in every direction, probably by carrier pigeon. How had he been so stupid?

Panic started setting in. He was trapped again, locked up by the very people who hated him and would gladly make his life a living nightmare. He would be taken back to Corona and thrown to the monsters in prison again.

And this time, Hector would not come.

Varian had made sure of that.

The door at the front of the room, off to his right, slammed open, and a soldier walked in. Varian gasped and stepped back away from the bars. He recognized him as the first soldier. He was probably also the one who had hit him, as he had been the closest. The man looked over at him and smirked. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

Varian didn’t answer.

“Nothing to say, huh? And after I went to all the trouble to bring you breakfast.” He held out an apple.

Varian took a step back. Being locked inside a cell brought back all the instincts he had been learning to let go of. Outstretched hand meant pain. Food meant being sick on his stomach.

“You need to eat. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us, and I’d like to take you back alive.” He set the apple on the floor just inside the cell and walked over to the desk, handing Ruddiger a second apple. The raccoon didn’t touch it.

A second soldier entered. “The others are ready. You coming?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why all four of us have to go.”

“Because he’s a high-risk prisoner. Took out most of the guard, remember?”

“I remember.” The first man turned to the trembling child. “Turn around and face the wall.”

Varian did as he was told, noticing then that his sling was gone. The cell door creaked open, and a second later cold cuffs were secured around his wrists. He bit his lip against the pain but didn’t make a sound. _Stay still, don’t fight back, don’t give them a reason to want to hurt you._ Not that they ever needed a reason. His vision started to blur. He was guided from the cell, a bit more aggressively than strictly necessary, given that he wasn’t resisting. The second soldier grabbed his other arm, which just so happened to be his broken one. He gave a slight yelp involuntarily. The soldier’s eyes widened, and he loosened his grip slightly.

They led him outside to where the other guards were waiting. A third man went back inside and grabbed Ruddiger’s cage. “What do we do with this?” he growled. “It’s smart. It’ll try to help the kid.”

“Keep it locked up,” the first one answered. “We’ll get rid of it on the way.”

Varian’s breathing picked up pace. They were going to take Ruddiger away again!

The man saw his struggle. “Relax, kid. It’s not like you can have him where you’re going, anyway. Panicking will only make it worse.”

Instead of calming him, the words only served to make him feel worse. Before he could stop himself, he gasped out, “Pl-please— just let him go! The-the man I was trav-traveling with, he’s not far from here. Let Ruddiger go to him!”

“And let him lead him back here? Not a chance.”

“He’s not coming.” Varian’s shoulders slumped. “He’s not coming for me. Please…”

“Sorry, kid, not gonna happen.”

Before Varian could argue, he was picked up and placed on the back of a horse. His hands were uncuffed and tied in front of him to the saddlehorn. The first soldier mounted behind him.

“Let’s go,” he ordered. The other soldiers moved their horses into position, one on either side of them and one in front. They started down the road back to Corona, back the direction Varian had come from, away from the town.

Away from any chance of freedom.

Away from Hector.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector tore into the building at top speed only to find it empty. In rage, he split the desk in half with his blade and threw one of the pieces against the wall. Spotting the wanted posters, he sighed and placed his hand on the paper with his nephew’s image.

“I’m not giving up, kiddo,” he whispered. “I’ll find you.”

He stormed outside and hopped onto Riki’s back, pointing him in the direction of Corona. It was out of the way, but he didn’t care this time. He had learned his lesson.

It didn’t take long for the hunters to overtake the guards. Seeing the party up ahead on the rocky path, they scrambled up to a high ledge running beside it and quickly passed them. Then Riki leaped down in front of them, startling the horse in the lead. It reared and threw its unfortunate rider to the ground. It danced off to the side in fright.

The other three pulled up quickly. Hector could see Varian on the horse in the middle, his skin ashen and dark circles under his eyes. Dirt smudged one of his cheeks. His sling was missing, and his wrists were bound. The child looked up in surprise and gasped when he saw Hector. Tears flooded his eyes.

Hector flicked his wrist, unsheathing his sword. “Let him go.”

To his credit, the soldier had a backbone. “You are interfering with Coronan official business. Stand aside.”

Hector growled, the low sound sending the remaining horses into fits. Their riders struggled to rein them in. “I asked nice the first time. I won’t do it a second.”

The soldier who had fallen climbed to his feet and drew his sword.

“You don’t want to do that,” Hector warned.

“Either remove yourself from the path or be cut down,” the soldier holding Varian warned. “This is your last chance.”

“Well, then, I’ll make this easy for you. No. We fightin’, then?”

The two soldiers flanking the prisoner dismounted and started forward. Hector got off Riki and prepared to meet their advance. Varian’s voice stopped everyone in their tracks.

“Move.”

Hector looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“Move,” he whispered.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Please.” The tears in his eyes broke free and slipped down his face.

The sight broke Hector’s heart. He thought again of the note in his pocket. “Sorry, kid. I can’t do that.”

Varian hung his head. The soldiers stepped forward again, swords drawn.

The first one swung at Hector. He brought his blade up to meet the attack easily, the metallic screeching familiar music to his ears. Twisting his sword, he drove the point of his opponent’s weapon into the ground. A swift punch to the face knocked him unconscious. The second charged forward with a quick lunge. Hector sidestepped, spun, and kicked the man in the head. He, too, found his resting place in the dirt. The third, wiser than the previous, had rushed forward while he was still engaged with the first. His sword missed Hector’s face by mere inches. The sunlight gleaming off the cold steel flashed in his eyes as time seemed to slow around him. He grabbed the man’s arm and yanked him forward, throwing him to the ground roughly. The soldier jumped back up and charged again. Hector once more dodged the blade as the man swung downward in an arc. The sword struck the dirt, and Hector’s knee struck his ribs.

The fourth soldier wheeled his horse around, intending to flee, but Kiki jumped down behind him. The horse skidded backwards in fright.

“Last chance,” Hector echoed his words from earlier.

The soldier glowered and hopped down to confront him. As soon as he was away from Varian, Artemis swooped down from the sky and slashed at the ropes binding they boy. They snapped easily, but the bird of prey spooked the horse. It reared, and Varian fell. Hector’s heart stopped as he heard the child’s startled cry cut short as he hit the ground. The horse bolted, and Kiki let it pass.

His attention was quickly caught by the fourth soldier. The man ran at him. Hector leaped straight over him, letting the soldier’s forward momentum send him sprawling into Riki. The bearcat, completely unimpressed, shoved him off and pinned him to the ground. Hector delivered a swift kick to his head. Then he turned back to Varian.

But the few seconds of delay had cost him.

The third soldier had climbed back to his feet and grabbed Varian, dragging him up and holding his left arm painfully behind his back. He held a dagger to his throat. Varian, whose eyes were unfocused and wide, winced slightly.

The only remaining horses were on the other side of Hector. The soldier’s eyes darted between the mounts and the warrior. “Move aside,” he growled.

“Never. Release him!”

The man’s hand was shaking. The dagger was too close to Varian’s neck for comfort. “The poster says dead or alive, and I can make it dead if you don’t move!”

They stared at each other for a moment, each waiting to see if the other would give. Finally, painfully slowly, Hector stepped off to the side. The soldier, keeping Varian between them, started forward. He nearly stumbled over the bodies on the ground. Hector took advantage of his moment of distraction. He dropped to the ground, swinging his legs around and knocking them both off their feet. They started to fall to their right. Hector caught Varian, yanking him away from the soldier and the dagger. The man fell across the other bodies in the path.

Setting Varian on his feet gently, Hector stalked towards the man as he scrambled back up and charged again. Hector’s fist connected solidly with the man’s jaw with a sickening _crack_. He dropped alongside his compatriots.

Turning his attention back to Varian, Hector grimaced. The kid looked rough. Covered in dust and dirt, left arm hanging limply by his side, breathing laboriously, a thin line of red trailing down his throat… the poor child looked like a strong breeze might knock him over.

“You okay, kid?” Stupid question. No, he was most certainly not okay. “Let’s get you out of here.” He extended a hand to Varian, who flinched.

“No!” He brought his right arm up to shelter his face, but the movement caused him to gasp and drop his arm back down to cross his chest. Crap. His ribs were probably in horrible condition.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Those blasted guards! This was bound to cause a major setback for the kid. He had been doing so well, at least until he started shutting Hector out. “Come on, let’s get you patched up.”

That seemed to get his attention. He blinked and finally looked up at Hector. “No.”

“No?” Hector raised an eyebrow. “Kid, you look like a new trainee after his first fight. Let me help you.”

“No.” His brows dropped over his eyes as he scowled. If the mood hadn’t been so serious, Hector would have laughed. How had anyone been intimidated of this kid? Even the scars across his face and right eye couldn’t distract from his genuine childness. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Come on. Let’s get out of here before these boneheads wake up.” He motioned Riki over. The bearcat stepped forward and crouched down.

Varian’s eyes widened suddenly. “Ruddiger!” He stumbled over towards one of the horses, a small cage tied to its back. The horse, still spooked, shied away from him.

“I got it.” He motioned Varian to stand back. The last thing he needed was a broken foot on top of everything else. Hector started whispering to the horse, holding out a gentle hand. It took a minute or two, but the horse settled down long enough for him to retrieve Ruddiger from the cage. The raccoon ran over to Varian, who knelt down to stroke his fur. He was in no condition to be carrying the thing, that was for sure.

“Right. Let’s get out of here.” He motioned the two of them back to Riki.

Varian didn’t move.

“Kid. We gotta go. These guys are gonna wake up soon.”

Varian stood but made no effort to follow. “I’m not going.”

Hector froze. “What?”

“I’m not going with you.”

“Kid… look, is this about the note? Did they force you to write that?” Varian being kidnapped still wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. It didn’t make sense for him to walk away on his own.

Varian shook his head. “No. I wrote it. I left. I…” He took a shaky breath. “I can’t come with you.”

“Sure you can.”

Varian suddenly met his gaze with a fiery boldness. “You’re not listening! I’m _not_ coming with you!” The tears in his eyes, which had briefly stopped upon getting Ruddiger back, started falling again.

If anyone had asked Hector what the worst thing someone could say to him was three weeks ago, he would have answered wrong. This… this was crushing, breaking, tearing his heart out and ripping it to a thousand pieces and scattering it to the wind so he could never put it back together. “…Varian?”

The boy turned away. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, just go. Leave me alone.”

“Kid—”

“ _Leave me alone_!” he screamed, stepping away from Hector’s outstretched hand.

Hector froze. What was this? Varian had never acted this way before!

Right. Deescalate the situation. Whatever was going on inside Varian’s head, he was clearly on the verge of a panic attack. Keeping his voice soft but firm, Hector stated, “’Kay. We’ll talk about this. Just not here. We’ll go somewhere else so these guys don’t wake up and arrest you again. Is that good?”

Varian bit his lip. He was at war with himself, Hector could see. On the one hand, he didn’t want to be around the warrior, probably because he’d lose his resolve to stay away and flee back to the safety Hector afforded. On the other hand, he didn’t want to get caught.

The only way to convince him would be to give a way out, then. “Look, kid, we’ll talk this over. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. Just—this isn’t the right time or place. If you want to go, just let me get you somewhere away from these guys. ‘Kay?”

Finally, Varian nodded. “Yes sir.” He allowed Hector to guide him over to Riki. Hector got on behind him, making sure not to have too much physical contact.

They raced back to the campsite. The entire trip back, no one spoke. No one dared to break the oppressive silence, even as hard as it was to suffer under it. When they arrived, Varian sat on a rock near the cave while Hector immediately got his medical supplies out of his bag and set to work.

Varian’s chest was bruised up again, but the ribs were not much worse than they had been. The damage done to his left arm was not major, thankfully. The splint had held it in place. He quickly replaced the sling. Then he patched up the cut on his neck.

“How do you feel?”

Varian didn’t answer.

“Kid, talk to me. I know something’s bugging you. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Why won’t you leave me?”

Hector was taken aback. “What?”

“Why won’t you leave me? Why do you keep coming for me? I told you to stay away.”

Hector shook his head. “I know what you said. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Varian turned to look at him. “I told you. I’m a distraction. A bother. You can’t keep coming back for me. You have a job to do.”

Nearby, the animals watched in shock. They kept their distance, even Ruddiger. They seemed to understand that this was just between the two of them.

Hector took a deep breath. “Kid, listen to me. I’m not leaving you behind, okay?”

“ _Why not?_ You said you might have to.”

“And I was wrong!” Hector struggled to keep from raising his voice. “Varian, I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“What?” Varian shook his head as if he couldn’t comprehend what Hector was saying. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I told you. I was wrong. I never should have considered leaving. I pro—I’m not leaving you behind. Ever. ‘Kay?”

He bit his lip. “This is why I left.”

“What?”

“At first, I thought you’d leave. Keep going to the Tree. And then you came back, and I knew you’d keep coming back. I left because you shouldn’t have to! I’m not worth that!”

“You are to me.”

“But your mission—”

“Is just a mission. Varian, you’re family. You’re more important than a stupid rock!”

“A stupid rock you spent almost forty years protecting.”

“Exactly. Forty years of my life. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. But you? Kid, I need you to see what you mean to me.”

“And I need you to see why I can’t come!”

“I told you. You’re more important than the mission. I won’t abandon you.”

Varian gave a choking sob. “You should,” he whispered. “Please. Before I—” he cut himself off.

“Before you what?”

“Before I hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.”

“I will! I hurt everyone! My dad! The queen! I can’t hurt you, too!” His voice broke. “I can’t. It would kill me.”

Hector found himself struggling to breathe. This went so much deeper than he thought. “Varian, look at me. _Look_ at me.” He waited until his nephew met his eyes. “You won’t hurt me. ‘Kay? We’re going to be okay. Both of us. You’re not going to hurt me. I’m not going to leave you to get snatched up by those sadistic freaks.”

Tears once more filled his nephew’s eyes. “You don’t know,” he whispered. “You don’t know what I did.”

“I don’t have to. What they were doing to you was sick and vile.”

Varian wrapped his arm around himself. “I deserved it.”

“Bullcrap! Stop saying that.” Hector gritted his teeth. This was what he had been afraid of. Square one, all over again. “That’s what _they_ told you.”

“They were right.” Varian shook his head. “You don’t know. You never should have come back for me. They were right to arrest me. After what I did…”

“Varian, stop.”

“No, you stop!” Varian leaped to his feet and paced a few steps away. “This whole time, you keep trying to tell me I didn’t deserve it, but I do! I’m a monster! I did things I can’t ever take back! I committed treason! I stole the Sundrop flower! I kidnapped and attempted to murder the queen!”

“Is that all?”

“What?” Varian whirled on him.

“Theft. Treason. Attempted murder that you’ve been forgiven for.”

Varian pulled on his hair. “Don’t you get it yet?” he sobbed. “I’m a monster! I ruin everything! All I ever wanted to do was help, but I just make everything worse! I tried to fix the black rocks, and I killed my dad! I tried to save him, and I committed treason and nearly murdered the queen and Cassandra! If I go with you, it’s only a matter of time before I mess up again! Why can’t you just _let me go?_ ”

Hector listened to the tirade in shock. If he had managed to forget it, it slapped him in the face all over again: this was just a kid. A broken, tortured kid. “Varian. I'll tell you why. Remember when I found you last week?”

Varian nodded.

“Well, there’s something I didn’t tell you. When I saw you laying there on the ground, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and it was my fault. And a part of me died, too. And I didn’t get it then, but I do now. It took losing you all over again to see why. I get it now. I get why Quirin chose to put something else over the mission. I get why he chose to have a family, to leave the past behind. There are some things that are more important than that blasted rock. Family is more important. _You_ are more important!”

Varian stared. Finally, he shook his head. “No. No, this is why I have to go. I—I’m sorry.”

Hector’s heart crumbled again. “Varian—”

“No! I know what that ‘blasted rock’ does, okay? It’s probably the only thing more destructive than me! You have to protect it. You have to stop anyone from taking it. I can’t be the reason you don’t.”

“What if I could do both?”

“What?” Varian brushed tears out of his eyes and turned to look at Hector.

“What if I can protect you and the stone? You’re more important, but I understand the necessity of the mission.”

Varian sighed and turned away again.

“Kid, can I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“Why did you think I’d leave you? I know Quirin didn’t raise you like that. Where did that come from?”

His shoulders hunched, and he drew in on himself as if afraid of being hurt. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

He was silent, and Hector worried he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed. “She abandoned me.”

“Who?”

“The princess.” He shook his head. “I was stupid. Childish. She said she’d help me, and I believed her. She promised. But when Dad got trapped, she let me be thrown out in the storm on my own. And she never came to help. I thought she’d come… I thought I could trust her. I waited so long… I waited while the guards tore up my house and held me prisoner just for knowing too much. I kept waiting…”

The statement struck him like a fist to the stomach. The princess. The perfect princess, the Sundrop herself, had made a promise she didn’t keep. That at least explained his aversion to the word. She had abandoned a child, an orphaned child—in a storm, no less—and allowed him to be held captive unjustly. She had fought him when he struck back, then left him to suffer while she went off on an adventure to find the very thing that had caused this mess in the first place.

“Kid, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so, so sorry.”

He shrugged. “I learned my lesson. I’m not worth her time or effort. I only was when I fought her. I learned I was only worth it when I was the bad guy. And I don’t want to be that anymore. I hated what I became.” His voice was suddenly cold and empty.

“Varian.” Hector’s voice was breaking now. “Varian, I want you to listen to me carefully, ‘kay? I am _not_ her. I am not going to make you feel worthless the way she did. If you come with me, I’m going to take care of you. I won’t leave you behind. No, don’t look at me like that. I mean it.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Look. I won’t force you to stay. I’m not going to hold you prisoner. If you want to walk away, I’ll let you. Just tell me so I can make sure you have money and food. Don’t go off without being prepared like that again. If you still want to leave, that’s your choice. But if you want to stay, if you’re willing to trust me, if you’re willing to accept the fact that I’m never going to abandon you, I need you to understand that it’s unconditional. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care that you think you’re dangerous. I’ll never hold that over your head. For all I care, your past never happened, ‘kay? We can be a family. I’ll take care of you. It’s your choice. Go or stay.”

Just forcing the words past his lips hurt more than he ever imagined they could. This was up to Varian, now. Hector could not make this decision, as much as he wished he could. If he chose to leave, Hector would have to let him go. He would have to lose him, to go on to the Tree and continue his mission and live every day knowing he had lost the most valuable thing he had ever had. If he chose to stay, though…

Varian still faced away from Hector, but he could see the boy’s shoulders shaking as he wept. Everything in his short life was a wedge that had been driven steadily between the two before Hector had known what was happening. Had he lost his chance before it even began? Had the princess’s betrayal shattered his heart so badly he couldn’t trust anyone to touch the pieces, choosing rather to try to keep them to himself?

A broken sob tore from Varian’s throat. He turned and threw himself at Hector, clinging to him with a strength that Hector hadn’t known existed in that tiny frame. In shock, he placed his arms around the boy, realizing his mistake as Varian suddenly stiffened. Hector started to let go, but Varian only clung tighter, as if Hector were his only rock in a turbulent sea. He returned the hug fully then, still mindful of the boy’s ribs and arm. The two sank to the ground, neither having the strength to keep standing. “I-I wan-want to stay. I want to stay. Please. I-is that okay?” His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

For years, Hector had contained his emotions, keeping a hardened wall between himself and the outside world save for the occasional angry outburst. But this was Varian. This was his nephew. For him, he could let down that wall. So he did. And Varian wasn’t the only one crying as Hector whispered back, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay. That’s okay.” And then he said the words he never thought he’d say to anyone but his siblings. “I love you, Varian.”

For a moment he worried he had gone too far. For all he knew, Varian’s decision to stay was only based on a need for safety. But then he heard that soft voice return, “I love you, too.”

And Hector’s entire world changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When a bone heals wrong, it must be rebroken before it can ever be straightened.
> 
> I may or may not have listened to Lewis Capaldi's "Before You Go" a million times while writing this chapter. I was introduced to it just last night. I know the context is most definitely not the same, but it seemed to fit. (For the record, this is the only song I know by him)
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	10. Moving Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian gets therapy. Hector tries to process what he's learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: mentions of extreme violent injuries, self-deprecation, nightmare

“Teach me to fight.”

Hector looked up from where he was skinning the deer he’d killed. “What?”

“Teach me to fight.” Varian set his book down. Hector had insisted on taking care of everything that night due to Varian’s injuries, meaning he hadn’t been allowed to tend to the fire or get water or anything. Of course, Varian’s injuries were the reason his request was probably ill-timed. “I want to learn to fight the way you did today.”

“Kid, that kind of combat takes years.”

“Yeah, and you said you started as a kid. Will you teach me?”

The warrior looked at him skeptically, but Varian could see the light in his eyes and knew he had piqued his interest. The kid had always been good at analyzing people, and he knew there was no way Hector would be able to resist.

Sure enough, he answered, “’Kay. Why not? _After_ you get better.”

“Yes! Thank you.”

He nodded. “We’ll get you a staff in a bit. That’s where you need to start.”

“Got it.” He nodded eagerly.

Hector raised an eyebrow. “I mean it. You don’t try anything until I say so. You need to rest still.”

“Yes sir.” A sharp breeze blew through the woods, sending the child snuggling further into his cloak and hugging Ruddiger close to him. Hector didn’t seem bothered in the least by the cool air. He continued cleaning the animal, and Varian returned to his book. He didn’t need to pass out at the sight if he was going to convince Hector he was up to fighting.

It had only been a few hours since the rescue, and Varian wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. Half his mind still screamed at him not to let his guard down. It was only a waiting game until Hector decided he was no good. The other part of him craved to trust Hector’s words from earlier and to stop worrying. He would not leave. He loved Varian.

He waited with bated breath for Hector to tell him it had all been an elaborate trick and to throw him back to the soldiers. But it didn’t happen. The warrior had simply packed up their campsite and moved the party on to the next stopping point. In a show of trust, Varian had chosen to ride on Riki with Hector rather than with Kiki, even when Hector had assured Varian the bearcat was well enough to carry him.

Before leaving, Varian had gone back to the alchemy shop and spoken to the very concerned proprietor. The man had bought back the supplies and wished Varian a speedy recovery. Varian had tried to give the money back to Hector, but the warrior insisted he keep it since it was supposed to have been his present. Varian wasn’t sure if he would ever get over his aversion to alchemy, but leaving the shop had still ached. He longed for that hole, one of many in his heart, to be filled; the absence killed him, but the thought of embracing it once more terrified him.

The one hole that had no way to be filled, however, was the absence of his father.

“Uncle Hector?” he whispered.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“How do you get over losing someone?”

Hector placed his knife down and stared with unfocused eyes off into the distance. “You don’t,” he finally answered. “I don’t think anyone ever truly does. It hurts less as time goes on, but you never get over it. There’s always a part of you that holds on to whatever’s left and won’t let you go on.”

“What do you do about it?”

The warrior looked over at him. “Go on anyways.”

“What?”

He sighed. “When the Brotherhood split up, I didn’t know what to do. It hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before. I tried to ignore it by applying myself that much harder to guarding the moonstone. It was my way of coping. But when I went to Old Corona and saw Quirin’s body… well, that was one of the worst moments of my life. I honestly thought that would break me. That’s when I started asking questions. I wanted to find out what happened so I could get closure. That led me to you, and then I had a whole new problem to worry about. Crap! Not that you’re a problem; just… I was so busy trying to protect you it helped me get out of my own head. I moved on because I had to. It still hurts, and if I stopped to think about it, I’d probably do something stupid. But I had a reason to move on. Someone to take responsibility for.” He allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. “Saving you saved me.”

Varian tilted his head. He truthfully had had no idea Hector had felt that way. “Then is it wrong to grieve?”

The warrior raised his eyebrows. “Of course not! It’s natural to grieve. You’re supposed to. You need to. _We_ need to. There’s a balance between grieving and moving on. You can’t forget the past and the people who meant so much to you, and you shouldn’t. But you shouldn’t let that loss take everything else away from you, including the future. Hold on to the memories, but don’t try to relive the past.”

Varian pulled his knees up to his chest. “I thought I could get him back,” he whispered. “I thought maybe he was still alive. That if I could try hard enough, I could save him. Part of me still hopes that’s true, but I couldn’t take it if I was wrong. I can’t have that hope.”

Hector didn’t respond. He finished cleaning the deer and prepared to cook sections of it over the fire. After a lengthy pause, he asked, “Hey, kid, can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Sure.”

“It’s about what you said earlier. About the princess.”

At the words, Varian drew into himself. His shoulders hunched, and he wrapped his arms around his knees.

Hector winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He forced himself to relax. “I’m assuming you want me to explain what I said about her abandoning me.”

Hector’s guilty look was answer enough.

Varian took a deep breath. This was a leap of faith. This was explaining everything he had withheld from the one person who deserved to know. “She came to me asking about her hair. Then we started investigating the black rocks. I wanted to help. I wanted to do something instead of just sitting back helplessly like—like I _thought_ my dad was doing. I suppose he knew more than he let on, though.”

Hector scoffed playfully. “Yeah, he never said anything unless he had to. That was always annoying. Had to drag information out of him.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I started investigating, and she promised to help me. She said I wouldn’t be on my own. I trusted her… But yeah, when my dad told me to stop messing with the rocks, I didn’t listen. I kept experimenting. Then that… that _one_ experiment went wrong, and he saw what happened and pushed me out of the way, but he got stuck, and I went to the palace for help, but there was a blizzard—”

“You went to the palace in a blizzard?”

“Yeah. And came back in it. It was a state of emergency there, and she couldn’t help, and then I got thrown out by the guards—”

“WhAT!”

“Not the point. I came back, and Dad was… he was encased. I tried to break the amber, but nothing worked, and when I tried to go back for help, I found out they accused me of attacking the princess and I couldn’t get to the castle and no one wanted to help and I had to go back home—”

“Kid, slow down. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

“Sorry.” He reigned in his frantic breathing. “I waited around for over a month after that, trying to experiment on the amber, but nothing worked. A week after the blizzard, the masked men—I found out later it was the royal guards, sent by the king—showed up and tore up the house and interrogated me, looking for Dad’s graphtyc with part of a scroll in it. I’d already found it, so I hid it when they weren’t looking. They left me alone then, but they stormed in every few days to trash the place and ask questions. I suppose they didn't want me talking about the scroll to anyone. And they wouldn’t let me leave. I couldn’t evacuate with the rest of the village. After a month… I kinda snapped. I lost it. Lost my mind. Got a letter out thanks to Ruddiger, convinced the princess to come find the graphtyc so she could be a distraction, snuck out, and stole the Sundrop flower. But it was useless, and the princess hated me for that, so I…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I kidnapped the queen to use as bait to force the princess to come to me. I wanted to use her hair, since it’s unbreakable, to try to break the amber, but that didn’t work either, I failed, and I—I tried to kill the queen and Cassandra. I fought the entire royal guard. That’s when she used the rocks. Stopped me. I got arrested and—” he bit his lip. “Well, you know the rest.”

Hector was staring open-mouthed. Varian suddenly realized his precarious situation. He had spilled the dark truth about his past. For all Hector’s declarations that he didn’t care about what Varian had done, now that he knew the truth, that was bound to change.

That thought hurt. He had tried to protect himself and failed. He had allowed himself, against his better judgment, to open up to the warrior. Now the man would see his mistake and turn Varian back in. And Varian would have to suffer the pain that came from exposing his heart only to have it stabbed.

“So let me get this straight,” Hector rasped. “The princess asked you to investigate… you were trying to help people… you lost your dad, got held under house arrest for a month for knowing too much, stole a useless flower, got let down and abandoned by the very girl who promised you wouldn’t be alone, and when you finally had enough and fought back, they arrested and tortured you. Did I miss anything? Oh, right, the part where you got falsely accused.”

“What?” Varian had expected him to be mad, yell, accuse him of taking advantage of his kindness, force him to leave after all. He hadn’t expected _this._ “I—I mean, yeah, she abandoned me, but it’s not like I deserved her help. She had better things to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, just—just give me a second, huh?” Hector stood and walked away from the campsite into the nearby woods. After about ten seconds, Varian heard a bloodcurdling scream, accompanied by what sounded like fists against the trunk of a tree, followed by a metallic _schinck_ and the crash of the tree falling. Then Hector reappeared, running his hands through his hair. “No. ‘Kay? Just no. There’s no excuse. I don’t care if she had ‘better things to do.’ A _month_? A month wrongfully imprisoned and abandoned after _she_ asked you to help! And she never showed up!” Hector knelt down in front of Varian and pointed. “Listen to me, okay? You _did not_ deserve that. You deserved to get help, and the fact that you didn’t is on _her._ _She_ left you to take the fall for what she asked you to do. And I don’t ever want to hear you say you didn’t deserve help ever again, ‘kay?”

Varian blinked in surprise. “I—she had a kingdom to worry about! There was a blizzard.”

“And after that? After that, when the guards came and put you under house arrest?” His yellow eyes were practically shooting fire.

Varian didn’t answer.

“No. Bullcrap. Varian, _you are worth more than that,_ okay? You’re not just an asset. She had no right to ask you for help and refuse you when you needed her. I need you to see you’re worth more than that!”

Tears filled his eyes, but he blinked them away. “You… you don’t hate me?”

Hector sighed. “No. No, and I’ll tell you as many times as I have to. I don’t hate you. I can’t. I hear what you said about what you did, and I see a scared kid lashing out at the people who hurt him, ‘kay? I don’t hate you for that. I _hurt_ for you. I hurt for what you went through. For what you felt you had to do to be heard. It _never_ should have happened.”

“I—I’m a traitor!” Repeating the same arguments over and over again was getting exhausting, but he didn’t deserve the warmth and compassion in his uncle’s voice. “You can’t tell me that’s okay!”

“It’s not, and I won’t. But you know that without me having to tell you. You’ve made that _abundantly_ clear, trust me. I’m going to tell you what you still don’t seem to understand. _You never should have had to go through that._ Any of it. ‘Kay?”

The words rang in his mind. _You’re worth more than that. It never should have happened. You never should have had to go through any of that._ And oh, how he wanted to believe them! But his logical mind fled back to every move he had made against the royal family, against the people of Corona, against his father. He thought of the months spent in prison, being told he was worthless, that he deserved what they did to him, that he murdered his dad.

And strangely enough, it was that last point that made him see.

After everything they told him, everything they forced him to admit under torture, that was the one thing he had never accepted.

Traitor? Undoubtedly. Worthless? Without question. His dad’s killer? Never. Even when they forced him to drink that vile compound, forced him to say things that he didn’t mean, he had held that truth in his heart. It was his lifeline.

And now it pulled him free of the murky waters of doubt and hate.

He had done wrong.

And so had they.

He looked up at Hector, new understanding giving him a strength he hadn’t felt in forever. “’Kay.”

O‴O‴O‴

Hector watched the soft rising and falling of Varian’s chest as he slept, his raccoon snoozing beside him. The child had a peacefulness about him he hadn’t even had after his decision to stay. This would be a long process, Hector knew, but he was prepared. He would give Varian the assurance he needed, as often as he needed it.

It helped that Varian was rather unproblematic. Sure, he did try to run away, and on multiple occasions Hector got involved in a fight over him, but he never had to fight _with_ him on anything other than Varian’s self-worth. He was polite and helpful, even during the entirety of last week when he wouldn’t talk.

They had settled into a sort of routine over the last few days, even before his capture. They traveled during the day, stopping around sunset to make camp. They washed in the cold creeks and streams they found on the way. Hector did the hunting and heavy lifting. Varian tended to the fire and kept an eye on things while Hector was gone. The animals jumped in, too, taking turns keeping watch over their disaster-prone humans.

At night, they reapplied the healing balms to Varian’s injuries. The boy’s broken arm allowed for only limited movement, so Hector had to help. Fortunately, Varian was more accepting of touch, now.

This night, however, coming right on the heels of the guards’ attacks, Varian had been tense and skittish at every touch. Hector could see him trying not to be, trying to calm himself. The good news was that the wounds were healing nicely and would probably be fine in a few days. The bad news was that most, if not all, of them would leave vicious scars.

Burning rage filled him at the thought of what his kid had been through. How had it come to this? How had he been left to take the fall for something the princess asked him to do? _She_ had recruited him. _She_ had asked him to help with the rocks. When everything fell apart, she left, avoiding all consequences of her actions and leaving an orphaned child to pay the price. She had left him to be beaten and scarred and abused.

And when Hector met her, he would make her pay.

A soft gasp drew his attention. He looked over to Varian, whose face was contorted in pain—or, memories of pain. Ruddiger sat upright as Varian started twisting and jerking. Nearby, the bearcats looked over from their sleeping position of being tangled around each other as if a single mass. Artemis, sitting on Kiki’s back, flapped her wings indignantly.

Hector knelt beside the boy. “Varian?”

His breathing had quickened. He gave a pained yelp and quickly bit his lip.

The warrior grimaced. He needed to wake the kid up, but that could hurt him. Staying asleep could hurt him, though, as he was now thrashing violently against unseen hands.

“Varian!” Hector reached out and shook his shoulders. “Wake up, kiddo. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

Sure enough, Varian shrank into a ball at the contact. His right arm came up to protect his face. Hector gritted his teeth and shook him more aggressively. “Varian, kid, you’re going to be okay. I need you to wake up.”

Varian’s eyes blinked open in surprise, and he sat up with a cry of pain. His right arm dropped to wrap around his bruised ribs. He trembled in fear and stared off into space with wide eyes.

“Kid?” Hector spoke softly, not wanting to scare him. “You okay?”

He shuddered and drew his knees up to his chest. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I mean, you don’t have to. That’s fine. Sorry; forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Varian looked up at him, still breathing heavily. “I want to. I want to. Do—do you think it’ll help?”

“It might. Did you ever talk to your dad about your nightmares?”

“S-sometimes. But I never used to get nightmares like… like these.” He bit his lip, sighed, then began. “I… I keep seeing the th-things that happened back then. Sometimes the things I did. Sometimes the things they did. The, uh… the torture. Tonight it was the… it was the time they—they blinded my eye.” His hand strayed to the right side of his face to cover the clouded orb. “They… they had this thing they would do. It started about two months after the arrest, I think. The king told them to clear out my lab. So to get rid of my al-alchemy supplies, they… used them. On me.” He took a deep breath. “They would strap me to a table an-and pour chemicals on my skin. That’s how I got the scars you asked about. Most of my compounds were harmless, but… they started using the raw chemicals. And sometimes they’d use things like my truth serum. Force me to drink it and ask me questions. When I told the truth, they’d... hurt me.” His hand strayed to his upper left arm, where Hector had noticed multiple parallel lines, possibly from a dagger. “Anyway, my nightmare was the day they used acid on my eye. Not anything too major, just—but yeah, it cost me my sight.”

Hector sat in stunned silence. Beside the humans, Ruddiger’s jaw hung open.

When the man spoke, his voice was strained and hoarse. “They… that’s why you don’t do alchemy anymore.”

He nodded. “I didn’t realize it would affect me that way, seeing it again.”

“I can see why.” Keeping his tone low and calm was a struggle. “Did—do you think the king knew they were going to do that?”

Varian fixed his good eye on Hector. “He’s the one who told them to.”

Hector was once again shocked speechless. Of course. Of course Her Royal Backstabber took after her father. Of course the man who ordered a child to be imprisoned in his own house with his father’s body would give the command for him to be tortured in ways that made fire run through the warrior’s veins just to think of.

Hector had seen many gruesome things in his life. But this? This was sadistic. It was monstrous.

But Varian wasn’t finished. He drew his shoulders in and kept his head down. “It—it wasn’t enough for him to j-just tell them to. He had to see it. He would come and watch what they did. Make sure I was being punished enough for attacking his family. He was there th-that time. When they did this.” He motioned to his eye again. “He made sure to stand on my right. He wanted to be the last thing I saw from this eye. And he was.” His voice had faded to a whisper.

The warrior’s blood, which had been boiling, suddenly ran cold. A deadly weight settled in his chest, hard as steel and sharp as a blade. This man had not only wrongfully imprisoned his nephew; he had ordered his guards to torture him and then _watched them do it._ He had taken every opportunity to make Varian suffer, even going as far as making sure his hated face was imprinted on the child’s brain for eternity.

And Hector would take great pleasure in making him regret ever hearing Varian’s name.

Impetuously, he put his arm around Varian’s shoulder. His nephew looked up in surprise, then scooted closer and tucked into Hector’s side the way Ruddiger always did with him.

“Kid, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. The storm inside him settled to a dull roar. “Look, I know you’re worried about what you supposedly deserved, but that’s over, ‘kay? Your debt was paid the hard way. Put it behind you.”

Varian nodded. His eyelids were starting to close. He blinked a time or two. “Uncle Hector?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Could you tell me another Brotherhood story?”

“Y-yeah. ‘Kay.” The ice in his blood cooled the fires of his fury enough to give him control of his voice. Adira and Quirin had always described him as a hothead, a loose cannon. But this level of hatred and rage blazed like the forge of a swordsmith; and the cold, calculating wave that washed over him quenched the steel blade in his bosom, leaving him with a weapon fit for a king. Or, more accurately, fit to destroy a king.

So he opened his mouth, giving no place to the fierce words that pushed to escape, and told Varian a story of three siblings, a rhino, and an accidental—yes, accidental—fire that happened to damage a priceless tapestry. As he spoke, Varian started to drift off, his head sagging against Hector. Seemingly unconscious, the child shifted until he was using Hector’s leg as a pillow.

He stopped talking and looked at the boy in surprise. “Umm…” He looked to Ruddiger, who shrugged as if to say, _This is your problem, not mine._ The raccoon snuggled up beside Varian.

What was he to do now? Moving the boy might wake him up. Varian was, unfortunately, a light sleeper. Hector couldn’t _possibly_ guess why. He sighed and grabbed Varian’s pillow, pulling the blanket up to cover the sleeping kid. The situation reminded him of the times he and his siblings would dogpile to keep off the cold when out on a mission. He smiled fondly at the memories and laid back, careful not to disturb his nephew. “’Night, kiddo.” Then because he knew he wouldn’t hear him: “I’m not gonna let them get away with what they did. You deserve better.”

The rest of the night passed without incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest, this hurt to write. I knew I had to do something dramatic for Varian's prison experience, and this nearly made me cry. But the angst must go on.
> 
> Shoutout to my friend who's an amateur blacksmith for helping with the sword analogy.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	11. Good Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the late post! Writer's block is no fun. Thank you for your patience.

Varian was not sure what to expect after his revelations to Hector.

Overprotective dad figure was not it.

That’s what he got.

The next week after that night was spent trying to convince Hector he was not a porcelain doll. Sure, he was small and breakable, but he was stronger than he looked. He had survived up until this point, hadn’t he? He had made it past all the accidents his experiments resulted in, a blizzard, a month of house arrest with hardly any food, the battle, six months of prison torture, getting turned into a cat and nearly killed, and getting arrested again. Climbing a tree was nothing compared to that.

“CAREFUL!”

His sudden fall was brought to an abrupt halt as he landed in a pair of strong arms underneath him.

“Just because I said you didn’t have to wear the sling does _not_ mean you can climb trees!” Hector sat Varian on his feet, but he kept his hands on his shoulders like he’d fall to bits if the warrior let go. “You’re still recovering! What were you thinking?”

Varian looked up at Artemis, who sat on a nearby branch watching him. “Snitch,” he muttered. The bird had kept an annoyingly close eye on him over the last week. She was probably the one who brought Hector to him. “I was thinking I wanted an apple.”

“And the raccoon couldn’t get one for you?” He glared at Ruddiger, who glared back.

“I wanted to get it myself.”

Hector groaned and put his head in his hands. “You’re going to be the death of me. Can you not be careful for five minutes? Just five!”

“Sorry.”

“Why were you climbing a tree? I mean, I get the apple thing, but seriously, you could have let Ruddiger get it!”

Varian shuffled his feet. “I’m… I suppose I’m just tired of being… tired. I haven’t done anything in so long. Just survived. I’m ready to not be injured. I just want to be able to do the things I used to do. Climb trees. Go swimming. That sort of stuff.”

“I know, I know. Just… wait a bit longer, okay? And tell me when you’re going to do stupid stuff so I can watch out for you. ‘Kay?”

“’Kay. I mean, yes sir.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “'’Kay’ is fine. I’m not stuffy.”

“Right. So… can I start training yet?”

“Were you even listening?!”

Varia groaned and crossed his arms. Or tried to, anyway.

Hector gave a bone-weary sigh. “And I never thought I’d miss the days when you didn’t do anything. Just—give your arm a few more weeks, ‘kay? We’ve got a ways to go, and you’ve got time. I’ll train you. But you need to get better first.”

“’Kay.”

Hector tilted his head in consideration. Then he jumped up, planted one foot on the trunk of the tree, sprang up, unsheathed his sword, and sliced one of the apples off by the stem. He dropped to the ground in time to cut the apple in two as it fell, catching both halves in one hand. He then gave it to Varian. “There. Have an apple.”

The boy stared wide-eyed. Then he smirked. “You know the raccoon could’ve gotten it, right?”

Hector stuck his tongue out. “Smartmouth.”

O‴O‴O‴

Hector wasn’t sure what to expect after Varian’s revelations to him.

Hyper child with absolutely no regard for personal safety was not it.

That’s what he got.

As time passed, Varian came out of his shell more and more. That was good. What was not good was his insistence on doing things he had no business doing. Thus the tree incident. Hector dreaded to think what would have happened to Varian if Artemis had not told him something was wrong.

The next week, he caught Varian trying to beat the dickens out of a tree with a stick.

After that was the time he thought he had recovered enough to try _balancing standing up on Kiki’s back as the bearcat crossed a canyon by a rickety bridge and GET BACK HERE YOU TWO THIS IS NOT THE TIME AND PLACE TO ACT LIKE FOOLS!_

All in all, he was at his wit’s end.

Worst of all, he was turning into Quirin.

The thought made him shudder. All those years being the carefree, does-as-he-pleases youngest brother, and now he was suddenly a Quirin clone.

He had no idea what to do. Over the last few weeks, Varian had become an entirely different person. He was no longer the timid child Hector had rescued. He held himself taller, talked more smoothly, and acted like a proper fifteen-year-old. Getting his burdens off his chest had apparently been good for him.

The change came about gradually but steadily. A sarcastic joke here, a random tangent about the types of trees native to this region there. He smiled more and goofed off with the others. The more time passed, the more he seemed to be at ease. He didn’t look over his shoulder the way he had earlier.

Trouble started when he got the sling off. Suddenly he was invincible, able to do all the things he had previously done. Hector, baffled by the change, rapidly attempted to adjust. That meant keeping a closer eye on Varian and often enlisting the help of Artemis and the bearcats. Ruddiger was too close to Varian to snitch, although he did come to the warrior when the boy got himself in trouble.

Now, five weeks from the first rescue, Hector was trying (albeit unsuccessfully) to avoid panicking as Riki ran up to him and started yowling. Remembering that the bearcat had gone on a walk with Varian (this was one of the rare occasions Ruddiger had stayed behind), his mind immediately jumped to all the things that could possibly have gone wrong. He could have fallen into a pit. Or fainted. Or run across a wild animal. But no, Riki would have stayed to fight!

He followed Riki back the way the bearcat had come. The two of them found Varian huddled up at the base of a tree, the fur-lined hood of his maroon cloak hiding his face. He clutched something to his chest tightly.

Hector knelt down next to him. “You okay, kid?”

“Fine.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He sounded like he’d been crying. Hector couldn’t see his face yet, though.

“Nothing, huh? Then I don’t suppose you’d mind coming out from under your hood and talking to me?”

“No.”

Once again, Hector found himself at a loss. Sure, Varian had had his fair share of low moods, but not usually like this. And he didn’t appear to be hurt. “’Kay. You know the way back to camp. Do you want Riki to stay with you?”

“No.”

He nodded, though Varian couldn’t see. “We’re going back, then. Join us when you’re up to it.”

“’Kay.”

They returned to the campsite. Ruddiger, upon seeing them, immediately leaped up from the apple he was snacking on and started screeching angrily at Riki. The message was clear: _Where’s my boy? You were supposed to be watching him! How dare you leave him alone!_

“Easy, rat,” Hector grumbled, holding out a hand placatingly. “The kid just needs some personal space, huh? Give him time. He’ll come back.” He turned to Artemis, who was watching them bemusedly. “Keep an eye on him for us, would you?”

She spread her wings and flew off in the direction he and Riki had come from. Confident that she would alert him if Varian got into more trouble than he could handle, Hector settled by the fire and waited. As he waited, he redid the braids in his hair. The motion was soothing, familiar, and his practiced fingers flew with a mind of their own.

He’d have to do something with Varian’s hair. It was long and shaggy from six months of prison. The man grinned as he remembered that first night in Vardaros, when Varian had decimated nearly an entire bar of soap, turning his raven hair white. He had kept himself fastidiously clean after that. But he’d nearly tripped over a pile of firewood just the other day because his bangs fell in his face over his left eye.

A soft noise at the edge of the campsite caught his attention. He looked up to see Varian standing there. The boy walked over to Hector and sat next to him, letting the object he clutched tightly fall to his lap. It was the picture of the Brotherhood Hector had brought from Old Corona.

“I’m confused,” Varian admitted without being prompted. “The closer we get to the Great Tree, the more I realize how… _real_ this is. I may never go back there. I may never see him again. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. Probably not. But I can’t even bury his body. I’m trying to move on, but I don’t know what to do.”

Hector waited, assuming Varian wasn’t done.

After a minute, he continued. “My entire life, I knew what to expect. I woke up in the mornings at my house in Old Corona. I ate breakfast with Dad. Then he went outside to work and I went to my lab. Sometimes I’d go with him. At night, we’d eat supper and talk for a bit. The sun rose in the east and set in the west—although technically, the sun doesn’t rise or set; the earth is just rotating, but you know what I mean. And there was always _direction_. I had a purpose, even if it was messed up for a while. Even when I didn’t know what to do, I knew I had to save Dad. Now… I’m just not sure _what_ I’m doing. I don’t know what comes next. I’m… I’m scared.”

Hector sighed. He leaned back and stared up at the first-showing stars. A few wispy clouds darted across the sky. A moment later, Varian leaned back next to him.

“You want to know the truth, kid?”

“Mm-hm.”

“The day I left the Dark Kingdom… I was terrified.”

“What?” Varian turned his head to look at him. “But… you were a warrior. An adult.”

“Yep. And I was so scared, I thought I’d pass out. Sure, I’d been out on missions before, but this… it was leaving my home behind, never to return. All those memories, all that time I spent there… I thought I’d die. Truthfully, I still miss it. I’d go back in a heartbeat if I could.” He sighed. “Sometimes, life throws things at us we don’t think we can handle. We want to curl up in a ball and pretend it’ll all go away. But that doesn’t fix the problem. Just puts it off, makes it worse. If you want to make it better, you have to face it.”

“Is this another ‘move on anyways’ speech?”

“Now would I give the same speech twice?”

Varian shrugged. “You’ve given me the ‘You’re still recovering; why can’t you be careful?’ speech about twelve times now,” he responded cheekily.

Hector elbowed him gently. “You needed to hear it.”

They stared up at the stars for a few more minutes. “I want to protect the Moonstone,” Varian suddenly spoke up.

“What?”

He sat up, and Hector followed. “I need to move on, remember? I’ve seen what that thing does. Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. I mean, I get that I’m not a knight or anything, but I can train with you. You’ll stop the princess this time, and maybe in twenty years, I’ll be stopping her kid or something.”

“So what, you want to be part of the Brotherhood or something?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe one day. It’s something I can do to help. To stop letting my life be ruined by it and start doing something about it. I mean, we can’t fix it or stop it, but we can keep others from getting hurt. Keep people from using it for bad. Right?”

“Right.” Hector tilted his head and eyed Varian suspiciously. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I want to do some good. All I’ve ever seemed to do so far is bad things.”

“Is that why you’ve been so reckless lately? You want to prove to yourself you’re capable of doing good.”

“Hm?” Varian feigned innocence, but Hector wasn’t buying it.

“You were climbing the apple tree to get food a few weeks ago. You practiced fighting with a stick because you want to learn to fight and be a warrior. You stood on Kiki’s back crossing that bridge because you saw me do that earlier that week and wanted to prove you could be like me. You nearly fell in the creek ‘cause you were trying to get fish for supper. You twisted your ankle trying to climb a cliff to get some berries I just ‘had’ to try.”

Varian blushed. “Oookay, Mr. Smartypants. Maybe I’m ready to be more than a lump on a log.”

“You’ve been helping me this whole time.”

“I know, I know. I just… want to do more.”

“Good. Your training starts tomorrow.”

“What?!”

Hector rolled his eyes as Varian practically bounced out of his skin in excitement. “Settle down. You’ll just be doing the mental stuff first. Not anything stabby yet.” He ruffled Varian’s hair. “Eat some supper and go to sleep. You’ll need it.”

Varian quickly scarfed down his food and slipped into bed. Hector shook his head as he watched the boy toss and turn like a child on Christmas Eve for what felt like forever before finally settling down.

Inwardly, he was debating. Quirin obviously wanted Varian to have nothing to do with the Brotherhood, considering he never told him about them. But Varian didn’t have much of a choice now. He was involved whether he liked it or not. But to train him to be a knight? Quirin would have his head. He could already see the look on his face if he found out. Not that he ever would, but still…

 _Self-defense,_ he mentally argued. _The kid needs to be able to take care of himself._

 _Mm-hm,_ Quirin’s ghost argued. _And I’m sure this isn’t just because you’re excited to have a protégé._

 _Nope. He’s not going to back down, anyway. His mind’s made up. So’s mine._ Ignoring the mild guilt plaguing him—he was rather good at that—he leaned against Riki’s side and fell asleep.

O‴O‴O‴

“So we just sit here?”

“Not quite.” Hector sat cross-legged and motioned for Varian to do the same. “This is a test of strength of will and endurance. Twenty-four hours.”

“And we can’t move at all?”

“Not much. If you need to shift your legs a bit, I won’t complain. And remember, you don’t have to get it right the first time. If we need to stop, we can. But the goal is to go an entire day and not move.”

“Do we have time?” Varian was understandably skeptical.

“Of course. I’ve got this whole thing planned.”

“And how often do our plans work?” Varian smirked.

“Shut up and meditate.”

“About what?”

“Anything. I usually plan strategies and battle tactics.”

Varian nodded. Then he bit his lip nervously. “What if…”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

Hector raised an eyebrow.

Varian ran his hands over his face. “What if I… get lost? There’s dark parts of my head I sometimes fall in if I stop to think for too long. I don’t want to lose myself again.” He shuddered. “It went bad enough the first time.”

“Kid.” Hector put a hand on his arm. “I’m right here, okay? I won’t let that happen. And you’re not supposed to talk during this, but if I see you get that look on your face, I’ll talk you out. ‘Kay? I’m right here. I won’t let you get lost.”

Varian nodded. He straightened his back and took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Good. Our time starts now.”

O‴O‴O‴

At first, it wasn’t so bad. The weather was nice, the campfire kept the cold air from biting too much, and the breeze rippling through the trees brought with it the scents of dirt and pine. The bearcats and Ruddiger played nearby while Artemis watched on in mature indifference.

Despite the peacefulness of the scene, Varian was nervous. He had always been a rather hyper sort. Rarely did he ever take the time to sit and think, unless it was about a project he was working on. That had changed during prison. Even after the storm, he had spent his days working on a solution to his dad’s situation. If he ever stopped to think, his mind was flooded with bitterness and pain. But in prison, he could do nothing. There was no answer to his problem, no escape from the endless torment. He tried to strategize, to devise a way of breaking out, but all his efforts met with failure. Eventually, the cruel words and treatment of his abusers had gotten to him, and his plotting had given way to despair and misery. Even now, in the safety of the campsite with his uncle nearby, he was terrified to allow himself access once more to the unfettered darkness that remained within his mind.

Throughout the trip, he had only fallen back to that darkness a few times. Every time, Hector had been there for him. But if this was a test of his willpower, he could not allow himself to rely on him. He would do this himself. He was not the same kid he was five weeks ago. Had his time of freedom given him enough strength to stand on his own two feet, to brave the challenges of silence and look his own demons in the face?

There was only one way to know.

O‴O‴O‴

Night fell, and Varian hadn’t uttered one word.

Hector watched in surprise and pride. A time or two, Varian made a face that warned of a potential attack, but every time, he steeled his composure and pulled himself away from the edge of his personal abyss. If Hector had seen the personal war Varian was waging, he was certain he would be even prouder.

Truthfully, he was nervous about allowing Varian to do this. He knew he had only seen a glimpse of Varian’s troubles. If this caused a setback, he would never forgive himself. But Varian would never make a proper knight if he could not first conquer his own demons.

Riki, who was taking a shift watching the humans while the others slept, trundled over and dropped some more wood on the fire. Hector nodded his thanks. The sky had started to cloud over, and the wind picked up speed. Nearby, Varian shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. He glanced over at Hector and smiled, but it was forced and strained. Hector gave an encouraging grin. It had been about sixteen hours, and the worst was yet to come. Varian would be fine, though. Hector believed in him.

The boy’s eyes started to blink rapidly. He shook his head to evade the sleep that was creeping up on him. Hector grimaced sympathetically. He remembered the first few times he had tried this. Hunger was pretty easy to ignore, but sleep tended to be a worse opponent. To be honest, he fully expected Varian to drop off into blessed unconsciousness any minute now.

To his surprise, Varian bit his lip and straightened his spine, rolling his shoulders back. A glare of determination crossed his features. He would not surrender easily, it seemed. He met Hector’s look with a smirk.

Once or twice more during the long night, Varian had to fight to stay awake. As dawn broke and the stars began to fade, he turned his head to the east to watch the sunrise. A soft smile graced his lips. Just a few more hours to go.

The sun rose higher and higher. Hector worked his way out of a fond memory of the time Adira had been sure she could sneak into a royal council meeting without being spotted—she had fallen from the rafters straight onto the table below—and checked the position of the sun. “Twenty-four hours,” he spoke.

Varian jumped at the sudden noise. He blinked in surprise and looked around. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. How are you?”

The child shrugged and yawned. “Tired.”

Hector nodded. “Get something to eat and take a nap. You did good, kiddo.”

Varian smiled. When he smiled like that, it was easy to look past the scars across his face and see the child within. It was easy to forget the pain and suffering he had been through and imagine he had never been forced to endure such torture in the first place. Maybe Hector had found him sooner, had raised him, even. He was young and innocent, untouched by the cruelty of the world.

And yet such musings were just musings. As much as Hector wished to shield him, he knew his nephew had seen more of the world’s evil in a few months than most people did in their lives. The scars he bore went beyond the skin and sank deep inside him, carving rifts and valleys and canyons. And they were as permanent as his physical reminders.

But he could fight them, though. Hector watched fondly as Varian dug through one of the bags to find some leftover fruit. He had gone twenty-four hours, silent, hungry, tired, through the darkness of the night and the darkness of his mind. And he was smiling.

Those scars would never fully heal, but Varian had placed himself into a position where he could easily fall, and instead he flew. Hector had fully expected to have to pull Varian out of his head again, but he hadn’t even needed him. He had stood on his own.

Varian, who was rooting through the bag, suddenly turned to Hector. A thin blue strap dangled from his hand. “You kept this?”

Hector grinned as he recognized the collar. “Yep. Figured to burn it, but the thought, hey that may come in handy.”

“Mm-hm. You just liked being a cougar, didn’t you?”

“Ah, shut up and go to sleep.”

Varian swallowed a handful of nuts and berries and curled up in his blankets. Ruddiger, impatient to be back with his boy, curled up beside him and snuggled under his arm.

Hector, not even bothering with food, flopped onto his back. “Wake us in a few hours,” he ordered the bearcats. He gave one last proud look at his nephew and fell asleep.

O‴O‴O‴

It was nearing evening when Varian finally awoke. He found Hector already up and cooking. The warrior motioned him over and held out a plate of food.

“Perfect timing,” he said. “I was just about to wake you.”

Varian pulled himself to his feet and joined Hector by the fire. Ruddiger, awakened by his boy’s movement, stretched and dug his tiny claws into the pallet. He followed Varian and flopped down in his lap.

“So…” Hector began, “You okay?”

Varian thought for a minute. “I’m fine,” he declared. “I’m… yeah, I’m fine.”

“What did you think about? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, it’s just—”

“No, it’s fine. I…” He took a deep breath. “It was hard at first. I kept going back to all the things that I did. The people I hurt. Wondering what I could have done differently. And then I realized that was only going to make me feel worse, since there’s nothing I can do about the past. So… I looked to the future. Thought of what happens next. And… well, remember how I told you the other day that I was scared?”

Hector nodded.

“I’m not anymore. I’m… hopeful. Excited, even.” He looked up into Hector’s watchful yellow eyes. “The past was… hard. It hurt. But it was all I knew. As bad as it was, it was familiar. I was scared to let it go. But when I was meditating, I thought of what’s coming. About how I can move on, be more than my past. More than just that villain who took on a kingdom. I thought about Queen Arianna and how I dragged her into a fight she had no part in. Tried to kill her. And she still showed me mercy. She saw something _more_ in me. So, yeah, I don’t know if I can ever really get over what happened, what I did, what they did to me, but… I’m ready to try.”

“Is that so?” The warrior smiled. “Not bad, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”

“Huh?” Varian blinked in surprise.

“I said I’m proud of you.”

“Oh.” Hector was… proud of him? “Why?”

“Why not? You’re a good kid, Varian. And you just completed a pretty difficult training exercise. We usually start trainees off with about four hours. You did twenty-four. Well, you’re also a bit older than most, but still, impressive. Speaking of, you seemed to handle pulling an all-nighter okay. Do that often?”

Varian shrugged. “Sometimes. I used to go days without sleeping if I got involved in al—one of my projects.”

“But that’s with stimulation. Being able to move around and do stuff. But just sitting still?”

He grimaced. Hector would not take this next part well. “There were… they had ways of keeping me awake in prison. Trying to wear me down physically and mentally. And sometimes, if one of them was in a bad mood, I couldn’t let my guard down, so I learned to stay awake pretty quickly.”

“’Kay.” Hector’s jaw clenched. “I’ll rant about that later. For now, just know you did good. Better than I expected, actually.” He nudged Varian’s shoulder fondly. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of kids come through training. Within a day or two, I can usually tell if one’s got the makings of a knight. You… you definitely do.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm. See, it’s not always about strength or skill or smarts. Some of that can come naturally, but it’s also stuff that can be taught. But those who’ve got what it takes have something else as well. You know what it is?”

Varian thought for a minute. Reflecting on the last twenty-four hours gave him his answer. “Devotion.”

“Exactly. Without that little voice inside you that screams at you to keep going when you think you can’t take another step, you’ll never be able to push yourself to do what it takes. I saw it the day I met you. You were feverish and wounded, and you fought like a bear to get away from me. You weren’t about to go willingly. You’re still recovering, but you’re not accepting excuses from yourself. You want to become the best you can be as soon as possible. And just now, when you did the exercise, you took on your own mind without anyone helping you. You struggled, but you never gave up. Wouldn’t even let yourself sleep.” He ruffled Varian’s hair. “Give yourself some time. You’ll be a great knight one day.”

Varian leaned into his uncle’s side. “I’ll make you proud.”

Hector laughed softly and pulled him closer. “You don’t have to. But I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a small favor to ask of y'all. I absolutely love the fact that y'all comment on my work. It thrills my heart. If y'all don't mind, though, can you please try to keep your comments clean? XD Seriously, though, the fact that y'all choose to take your valuable time to read and comment on my story means more to me than you'll ever know, and I love y'all. I wish there was a way to leave kudos for readers!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	12. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party makes their way home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So y'all remember how I said I couldn't let myself get behind in homework again? Well...
> 
> Seriously, the last thing I want to do is put this story on hold, so please have patience with me as I try to manage my ridiculous schedule. Y'all are absolutely amazing, and I can't thank you enough for supporting me this far.
> 
> Trigger warnings: mentions of bruises, etc., mild self-deprecation

Varian ducked as Hector’s foot swished over his head. He stumbled back and quickly regained his footing. “Not fair.”

“Everything’s fair in war,” Hector reminded him.

“We’re using _daggers_!”

“Expect the unexpected. And relax. If I’d wanted to hit you, I would’ve. Now show me your starting position again. Watch your posture.”

Varian had to admit: Hector’s teaching methods were odd but effective. Just in the three months since he had been allowed to start training, in the few hours each morning, afternoon, and night while they traveled on, his reflexes were sharper, his balance was steadier, and he was more confident. He wasn’t sure how his training under Hector compared to what normal knights or soldiers did—after all, the Brotherhood were not only the best of the best but had had the best training available—but he had noticed a significant difference in himself since he had begun.

He had changed physically as well. The seven months of malnutrition and abuse had left him weak and small—well, smaller than normal. But under Hector’s care, he was regaining his health. His ribs, which at one point had pressed crookedly against his skin due to healing improperly in prison, no longer stood out like the black keys on a piano. Muscle mass gave his arms definition. His hair had been cut, and his long bangs were pinned up out of his face so he could see. The outfits Hector had picked up for his fifteenth birthday—as disastrous as that had been—fit perfectly and were well-suited to the type of work he was doing. Looking at his reflection, Varian hardly recognized himself.

The training itself was agonizing, but Varian didn’t complain once. He was afraid that if he did, Hector would change his mind and decide that it was too much for him. It had taken long enough to convince the warrior not to hold back, to treat Varian like a proper trainee instead of like a piece of glassware. So he took every hit, every fall, in stride. He ignored the screaming of his muscles. He crawled into bed every night, bruised and sore, and didn’t make a sound.

He could see Hector watching him, waiting for any sign that Varian couldn’t take it. Waiting to bundle him up in a blanket of overprotectiveness and shelter him from the world. And Varian was flattered, truly, but he was not used to being protected. At least, not since his dad. He had been on his own for a while, then he had been in prison. Being… _cared for_ was still new to him. He was adjusting okay, but he needed Hector to see that combat training was the least worrisome thing he had been through.

That night, as he watched the rabbits cooking over the fire (he’d hunted them himself; that was another thing he’d been learning from his uncle), he caught Hector watching him with that concerned look he got more and more these days. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. Why?”

Varian sighed. “I’m not going to fall apart if you take your eyes off me. I’m fine.”

“Well, excuuuuuse me for being concerned. You took some bad falls today.”

“And I’m fine. Really. If I wasn’t, I’d tell you.”

“Would you?”

Varian started to answer. Then he stopped.

“That’s what I thought. Look, I’ll respect you not wanting me to baby you. But… every time you get hurt, I keep seeing what you were like back then. And I know you’re not bad off like you were, but I’m going to worry. It’s in my blood.”

Varian smiled sadly. “I get that. But you’re right; I’m not like I was. I’m being careful, but I need to learn.”

“I know, I know. Just—are you sure you’re okay with this? I’ve left you covered in bruises over and over again.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. I’m used to it.”

“Kid!”

“Sorry!” He held up his hands placatingly. Then he sighed. “I get it, okay? What I went through was horrible, but it’s been four months, and I’ve been doing fine. Getting bruised up during training isn’t the same as getting bruised up out of malicious intent. You’re teaching me to fight back, to defend myself. I asked you to. And don’t think I don’t notice you pulling your punches.” He crossed his arms.

“It’s not right. I’m family. I shouldn’t hurt you, even for training.”

“Who else is going to train me?” Varian raised an eyebrow. “It’s fine. You’re not abusing me. You’re just teaching me self-defense. There’s a difference. And I’m getting a few hits in here and there, too.”

Hector grinned. “Don’t I know it. You nearly busted my brains out with that staff yesterday.” He sighed and massaged his forehead. “I’m trying to remember you’re not helpless. Just—let me know if we need to slow down, ‘kay? This sort of pace isn’t for everyone, _especially_ kids who got abused for seven months.”

“Six months.”

“Seven. I’m counting the house arrest.”

“Fair enough. But I’m fine. Really. Speaking of how long it’s been, when are we getting to the Tree?”

Hector shrugged. “Not long at all. We’ve made good time. We probably passed the princess a month or so ago. Crap, sorry!”

Varian laughed at Hector’s dismayed expression. “I’m not going to have a panic attack if you mention her. I can’t stand her, but I do need to be mentally prepared for when she shows up.”

“I think the crap not. I don’t plan for you to get anywhere near her. Being prepared is good, but with any luck, I’ll take care of it, and you’ll hide until it’s over.”

“’Kay.” He was better off now, but that was one area in which he’d allow Hector to shelter him. The last thing he needed was to see _her_ and have a mental breakdown. That wouldn’t do at all.

O‴O‴O‴

“Kid, wake up.”

Varian’s eyes shot open and darted around in fear. _Danger!_ his mind screamed. But no, all he saw was Hector, his sharp teeth shining in the dim light.

“C’mon, kid, we’ll miss it!”

“Wha…” He yawned and stretched. “Miss what?”

“You’ll see. Come on.” He pulled Varian to his feet. Behind them, Ruddiger grumbled at being awoken so and clambered up onto Varian’s shoulders. It was still dark, so the boy clung to Hector’s arm as he led him through the woods.

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.” Hector didn’t slow his pace at all as he navigated through the woods to wherever he was taking them. _His night vision must be excellent,_ Varian thought as he stubbed his toe on a root. He hissed in pain.

“Could we at least slow down? I just woke up, it’s dark, and I’m barefoot.”

“Oops. Hang on.” Hector extricated his arm from Varian’s grasp. Before he could ask what he was doing, Varian found himself perched on Hector’s shoulders. He yelped in surprise and wrapped his arms around the man’s head.

“I kinda need my eyes, kiddo.”

“Sorry.” He readjusted his arms. “Better?”

“Yep.” His uncle took off at a faster pace. Soon the woods opened up in front of them. Hector sat Varian back on his feet and guided him forward.

“Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Just watch. Here, come sit.”

The child found himself at the top of a hill. The stars cast light over a wide-open plain below them. He could see the glimmer of a river winding its way through the hills and cliffs, and trees dotted the landscape here and there. In the distance, a dark shadow blotted out part of the sky.

“What is that?” he asked as he pointed.

“Just watch.”

“Watch what?” His answer came a few moments later, as a soft gray light started to tint the horizon. As the minutes crept on, the stars began to fade, and the first beams of sunlight peeked their hesitant way into view. The shadow never faltered, though, as the rays parted around it and left a dark silhouette standing out sharply against the rapidly-brightening sky.

Varian’s breath caught in his throat as the shape started to become more defined. “Is that…” He didn’t finish the thought, as his breath was stolen from his lungs.

“May I present…” Hector’s voice was tinged with a bit of smugness. “The Great Tree.”

He could only stare in amazement. It was the biggest thing he had ever seen; bigger than the castle of Corona, even. The sunlight shone through its twisted and gnarled branches and stung his eyes, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Tiny specks that might have been birds rose from the shelter of its leaves and took flight.

“It’s… it’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Hector nodded. “I like to come up here sometimes, just to see it like this. You should see a sunrise from the top of its branches. It’s like you can see all the way to the Dark Kingdom. Just miles and miles of space.”

Varian scootched closer to Hector and curled into his side. Hector wrapped his arm around him. Ruddiger snuggled between them. They sat and watched the sunrise in silence, cuddled up in their little pile, while the stars disappeared and the faint flickers of a sense of homecoming sprang up in Varian’s heart.

And it felt right. The hurt that lurked in the corners of his heart at the thought of leaving Old Corona behind had not faded, but now, looking towards the tree and sitting with his family, it occurred to him that perhaps finding a new home would be a good thing, after all.

O‴O‴O‴

They raced across the miles towards the tree, the bearcats’ paws tearing up the earth like a child tore wrapping paper. With every step closer, Varian’s heart thudded against his ribcage harder and harder. This was it. They were here. After four months, they were finally home. He could stop running.

They came to a fork in the path. One road led up to a wide cliff trail. The other led down towards a wood thicket. Hector turned the group to the right and led them into the woods and onto a narrow trail that looked almost nonexistent. He gave a sly smirk to Varian. “The mountain path leads to a drop-off. That’s why it looks easier.”

“Nice.”

“There’s about four paths to and from the Tree. I’ll teach you all of them. We keep them guarded, and we keep them hidden. Most people take the mountain path since it’s the only one they see.”

“So if the mountain pass drops off, does that mean there’s only three?”

“Okay, there’s four _actual_ paths. Smartmouth.”

They continued down the path, not stopping at the bank of the river crossing in front of the tree. The bearcats charged in, their feet finding a set of stones to cross with. The cold water splashed up and sprayed Varian across the face, causing him to gasp and Hector to laugh. Then they were charging up the path on the other side.

Before he knew it, they were standing at the base of the Great Tree, next to the archway mounted among the sprawling roots. As he hopped off Kiki’s back, he stared up, up, up, until he thought he’d fall over. The Tree was much more imposing up close. Standing here in its shadow, he felt impossibly small.

Naturally, though, his curious side took over. “What sort of tree is it? How tall is it? Who built the arch? How old is it? The arch, not the tree. Although, how old is the tree, anyway?”

“Slow down, kiddo.” Hector motioned him inside. “How about a tour?”

Varian was practically bouncing from the excitement. He followed Hector through the arch and into the hollow tree. The inside yawned open and spacious in front of them, with smaller trees and bushes and flowers clustered here and there. Pathways climbed the sloping inside, leading up into the body of the Tree. Off to the left, a waterfall coursed down to a stream that sparkled in the sunlight pouring in from somewhere high above. Vines ran over the arch, up the walls, over the floor, anywhere Varian laid his eyes. The grass underfoot was lush and soft, and he had to fight the urge to fall into it. A few birds chirped on a nearby tree, a rabbit herded her kits out of the middle of the path, and from off to the left came charging a giant—

Varian gave an undignified scream and darted underneath Hector’s cloak to hide behind his back as a giant gray _thing_ came charging straight at them. Hector didn’t flinch, and the beast skidded to a stop inches from him and snorted in his face.

“Shame on you, Kubwa,” he chided as he stared down the creature, which Varian recognized as a rhino as he peeked out from behind his uncle. “You did that just to scare him. Is that any way to welcome a member of the family? Unless it’s Adira, in which case I don’t expect you to let her get this far.”

The rhino huffed amusedly. Hector held out his hand to Varian, who hesitantly took it and crept out from behind him. “Varian, meet Kubwa. Kubwa, my nephew Varian.”

“Hi.” He waved shyly. On his shoulders, Ruddiger was shaking. Kubwa towered over the child and his raccoon, looking them over skeptically.

“Kubwa’s been watching the Tree while I was away. If you hadn’t been with me, he’d’ve run you down miles before you got here. How’s it been, big guy? Any nasty invaders try to sneak in while I was out?”

Kubwa huffed again, the air blowing through their hair (or fur). Hector reached up and scratched the rhino under the chin. “No, no one gets past Kubwa, do they? No sir.”

The bearcats jumped up on Kubwa’s back. He snorted and shook himself to attempt to dislodge them. Riki flew off but jumped straight back up.

“Easy, boys. Come on, Varian.” The boy followed Hector, still staring around, his eyes refusing to believe what they were seeing.

So busy was he in looking around that he failed to watch his step. The ground suddenly disappeared out from under him. Before he could fall, Hector grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him away from the edge of the pit he had nearly stumbled into. Varian yelped and clung to his uncle.

“Careful,” Hector warned. “Gotta watch where you’re going.”

Varian looked down into the pit, not loosening his grip on Hector. A strange sense of foreboding washed over him, along with a sudden chill. Despite the ominous aura, something about it drew him, called him. He leaned closer.

“Varian? Varian, snap out of it.” He blinked rapidly as Hector shook him.

“Hm?” He quickly regained his balance, though he was still hesitant to let go. “What’s down there?”

“The Heart,” Hector murmured. At Varian’s questioning look, he explained, “It’s the Heart of the Tree. Years ago, the Great Tree was sentient. It was good. Then it got corrupted by Zhan Tiri. The sorcerer twisted this place and turned it into a beacon of evil and darkness. It was Lord Demanitus who put a stop to it. He crafted a spear of magic and impaled the Tree’s Heart. That brought an end to the dark magic, but it also made the Tree dormant. The Tree now is only a shadow of its former magnificence. But the darkness still lurks within the Heart, and only the spear embedded within it keeps it from emerging.”

Varian stared in shock. “Wow,” he finally said. “That—that’s intense.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “C’mon. There’s more interesting things to look at than a stupid hole in the ground. Don’t touch anything. About forty percent of the plants in here will kill you, so pay attention.”

As they walked, Varian committed to memory everything Hector said—especially the “don’t touch that, it’ll kill you; or that, unless you want to turn green; or that, it puts you to sleep.” Away from the pit, he no longer felt the dark influences of the Heart, and he was desperately curious about this place and all it contained. Questions spilled from his lips like lies from a politician. “Did Demanitus construct the building portion of this? How does it hold up under the Tree’s growth? What do these carvings mean? When did you come here for the first time?”

Hector’s answers were mostly “Yes, I don’t know, I don’t know, forever ago,” etc. Eventually, they came out into a circular room with an alcove set into the wall covered in blankets and pillows, a wardrobe shoved in the corner, a pile where apparently the bearcats slept, judging by the fur, and a waterfall spilling down the wall opposite the alcove and joining a stream running along the side of the room. Hector took the bags from Riki and Kiki’s backs and threw them on the bed.

“This is my room. Not much to look at, but it works. Yours will be just down the hall. We can get you some bookshelves or whatever you want to decorate with.” He led him to a second room, similar to the first, except it had an actual bed. “The mattress is probably trash. I’ll head out tomorrow morning and get a new one.” He motioned to the window, a small gap in the tree. “I’ll grab some curtains, too. Anything else you want me to get?”

Varian looked around the room. It was probably the size of his old house. This room had a waterfall too, spilling out into a basin that overflowed through the wall. Vines and flowers grew across the floor and walls. To his amazement, the ceiling was studded in crystals that gleamed in the early afternoon light.

“It’s amazing,” he whispered. “This… I love it.”

Hector tried to hide his grin. “Still needs some work. We’ll get it fixed up with anything you need. I’ll bring the pallet in here tonight so you don’t have to sleep on that piece of junk.”

“’Kay.” Varian ran his hand through the waterfall. Then he grinned and splashed Hector.

The warrior froze. A strange look crossed his face, and Varian wondered if he had made a mistake. Ruddiger, who was sniffing around the bed skeptically, froze and looked to his boy nervously. Then Hector stuck his hand in the stream and splashed Varian back.

He gasped as the cold water sank into his clothes. Hector grinned maniacally. “Nice try, kiddo. You think you got what it takes?”

“I think so.”

“Then prove it.”

O‴O‴O‴

Ten minutes later, the boys were curled up on Hector’s bed, cocooned in blankets. Varian’s teeth were chattering. The brick fireplace nearby crackled cheerily, warming the room and the freezing boys.

“I’m just sayin’, if you didn’t want to get soaked, you shouldn’t have started a splash war with a professional.” Hector wrapped another blanket around his shivering nephew.

“The purpose of a splash war is to _splash._ Nothing in the rules says anything about _dropping your opponent in the water._ ”

“I told you yesterday. All’s fair in war. Want hot cocoa?”

Varian’s eyes lit up. “Please!”

“’Kay. Wait here. I’ll get some.”

When he had left, Varian looked around the room. It was very Hector-ish, with minimal decorations aside from the handmade crafts he had scattered around the shelves set into the walls. A pile of scrolls and papers lay on a desk near the bed. He reached a hand out of his cocoon and grabbed one of said scrolls.

The writing on it looked familiar. He studied it curiously. Even the handwriting struck a chord in his mind. Where had he seen this before? Perhaps in a book? Something from before his arrest—

The graphtyc! Like lightning striking, it hit him. This was the same writing on the scroll piece in his dad’s graphtyc! He scanned the scroll eagerly, recognizing some of the words he had already translated. Flower, healing, darkness, falling.

When Hector returned, Varian turned to him excitedly. “This scroll! Where did you get it? Are there more like it?”

“Yeah, a whole blasted room. I’ll show you later. Here.” He handed him a mug.

“Thank you.” Varian sipped the drink experimentally. “That’s amazing!”

“Thanks. The secret’s in the chocolate. Dark, and a lot of it. Makes it nice and thick.”

“So can you read the scroll?”

“Bits and pieces.” Hector sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not a linguist. I recognized a few words. Why? Can you?”

Varian nodded. “Parts of it. I translated part of a scroll my dad had a while back. I think this was written by the same man.”

“Then it was probably Demanitus.”

 _“What!?_ ”

“Yeah, this was all his research, I think.”

“Whoa.” His eyes grew wide. “How did my dad get ahold of a scroll from Demanitus?”

“Who knows? He certainly didn’t tell me.” He flopped on his back. “So what so you think so far? Like the place?” His voice was just casual enough to pretend he didn’t care what Varian thought and was just asking out of curiosity, but the boy knew better. He wanted Varian to like it here.

“I love it.” He took another sip of his cocoa. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing.”

Hector held out a hand, which Varian took with little hesitation. “It was nothing you didn’t deserve. You needed a home, a family. You deserved that much.”

“Not just that. You gave me a second chance. I thought I’d die down there. I never expected to get out, much less come somewhere as amazing as this.” His brow furrowed. “I want to prove I deserve this. That I’m not a waste of space. A lost cause. What if I can’t be good enough?”

“Varian.” Hector sat up. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. You’re not a bad kid; you just made bad choices.”

“I hardly think attempted murder can be called a ‘bad choice.’”

“Fine. Horrible choices. But you were traumatized, treated like a criminal, and left without any adult guidance and support. We’ll call that extenuating circumstances. And the queen forgave you, remember?”

“She didn’t say that.” Varian let go of Hector’s hand and crossed his arms. “She just helped me get away.”

“She wouldn’t have done that if she hated you.”

Varian groaned and put his head in his hands. “You can’t excuse my behavior.”

“I won’t. I just think you’re being too hard on yourself. You know what you did and that it was wrong. You’re trying to do good now. That’s proof you’re not who you were. All you needed was a second chance. They weren’t going to give that to you, so I did. What you do with it is up to you.”

Varian sighed and curled up further in his cocoon. “I’m sorry I’m such a wreck. It can’t be easy having to deal with my problems.”

“What?” Hector crossed his legs and turned to face Varian. “Kiddo, it’s not a problem. It’s not your fault you’re messed up in the head. Sorry, that was the wrong choice of words. Not what I meant. I just meant they kinda got to you in prison. Made you think you were too far gone. You’re not, ‘kay? You just need to see that.”

He nodded slowly. “I believe you. Just… if I’m ever bothering you, or if I’m ever too much to deal with, let me know.”

“I’ll do that.” He stood. “Let’s get lunch. Want to see the kitchen?”

“Uh, is Ruddiger an apple thief?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, V. I’ll teach you how to make my signature butternut squash bread.”

“Okay. Just one question: what the crap?”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Come on.” He pulled his nephew to his feet. Varian laughed and followed him to the kitchen. He’d been with Hector for four months and hadn’t died from his cooking yet, so he’d have to trust his judgment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that's 99% fluff? In this economy? Enjoy it, 'cause it's probably not happening again. Sorry.
> 
> Also I headcanon that Hector is definitely a crafter and a cook, considering he spent 25 years basically in a tree by himself, so...
> 
> Also! Kubwa means "great" in Swahili, one of the languages spoken in Tanzania, where black rhinos can be found. If this is offensive to anyone, or my research was incorrect, please let me know.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	13. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hector makes a mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: nightmares, flashbacks, yelling by a parental figure (seriously, if that bothers you, please do not read this chapter)

_That soft yellow-golden glow filled his vision. So soft, and yet so cruel. It should have been red. Red for blood. Red for anger. But no, it was yellow-golden, and it burned to look at. Yellow was supposed to be the color of the sun, of flowers, of coins. Not the color of a tomb._

_He attempted to break it. He attempted to use acid on it. He attempted to pray that it would miraculously melt. But the yellow-gold crystal, such a warm color, was cold and unfeeling to his desperation._

_He looked up into the face of the amber’s prisoner, twisted in agony. He looked at the crumpled paper in his hand, unread by anyone save he who had written it. He searched the horrid room, seeking answers, searching for something to make sense of this, to explain why that cold, cold amber had claimed this victim._

_In opposition to the cold amber was his burning rage. Rage for the life lost. Rage for those who had allowed it._

_This was not natural. This never should have happened. He never should have fallen this way._

_And those responsible would pay._

_They would pay, if it was the last thing he ever did._

_That was his solemn vow. And he never broke promises._

_Ever._

O‴O‴O‴

A sharp gasp, almost inaudible against the noise of the waterfall, sounded as he was ripped from his fitful sleep. Sitting bolt upright, he attempted to calm the frantic racing of his heart. Several deep breaths later, he lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was burning up, his chest ached, and the dark rage that flowed through his veins had yet to subside.

Why? Why this? Why now?

Most of his feelings, he tried to shove into a little storage room where all his impertinent emotions resided. This, however, had to be eliminated. He could not afford to let this live. He thought he had killed it already, way back in Corona. So why was that anger sticking its nose back into his life again?

_Never again. Never again. Never again._

He wasn’t angry anymore. He hadn’t been in months. But this most recent nightmare had dredged all of that back up to the surface, just so he would have to fight it all over again.

So he would.

He would fight as long as it took to destroy the last remnants of that bitterness and hatred.

Especially when the target of that past anger was at his mercy.

The soft patter of bare feet came from the hallway. Hector’s heightened sense of hearing caught it beyond the noise of the waterfall. Instinctively, he reached for the dagger under his pillow. Then he remembered there was another person living here now and replaced the dagger. It had been a week since they reached the Tree, and he was still trying to get used to that.

The aforementioned other person suddenly burst into the room and dove into the bed beside Hector, burying his face in the warrior’s chest. He hesitated only a brief second to determine if Varian would be okay with a hug—considering that he had practically tackled Hector, the answer was probably yes—before encircling him in his arms. The child was shaking like a wet bearcat and drenched in sweat.

“Nightmare?” he asked softly, his voice raspy.

Varian nodded, not bothering to look up. This one seemed worse than most, if Hector had to guess. Varian had never reacted to a nightmare like this on the way here.

“C-can I stay here tonight?” Varian whispered through his tears.

Hector, not trusting his own nightmare-fueled adrenaline, moved the dagger out from under his pillow and tossed it gently across the room. Better safe than sorry. “Yeah, sure.” He scootched over to make room for Varian. “Need to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “N-no.”

“’Kay. That’s fine. Need hot cocoa? Anything?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Right.” He leaned back and let Varian curl up next to him. Ruddiger had slipped into the room by this point. He hopped onto the bed and lay down next to Varian’s head. Artemis swooped in after him and perched on the mantle of the fireplace.

Nearby, the bearcats were watching, envy written across their features. Hector rolled his eyes. “Come on.” They grunted happily and jumped onto the bed, twining around the humans carefully so as not to crush them. “Nice. Anyone else? Kubwa? Artemis?” The bird looked up disinterestedly from her perch. Next to Hector, Varian giggled softly. Good. If he could laugh, he would probably be fine.

Hector waited until he heard Varian’s breathing shift. Guessing he was asleep, he turned to the bearcats, who were relatively light sleepers. They’d notice if he got another nightmare and started to go on a rampage. “Don’t let me hurt him, ‘kay? I can’t take that chance.”

He sighed and wrapped his arms protectively around his kid. He could never hate Varian. All that darkness that had come over him upon seeing his brother, all the thoughts he held of vengeance, had left him as soon as he saw the little almost-corpse in that cell. All that had been left was skepticism, and that had given way rapidly to the desperate need to protect and shelter him. His nightmare had been born from events and emotions long since left behind, and that which he had left behind he had no wish to reclaim.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen. Hector was already awake, and judging by the dark circles under his eyes and his slower-than-usual movements, he hadn’t slept well at all.

“Good morning.”

The only response Hector gave was a noncommittal grunt.

“A-are you okay?”

“Hm?” Hector looked up from the pan of bacon. “Yeah, sorry, I just—sorry.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“More or less.” He finished making breakfast and sat a plate in front of Varian. “Listen, I’m heading out today. Need to go pick up some stuff. I’m taking Kubwa. Hang out here. You know what not to touch. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“’Kay.” Varian wrapped his arm around himself. “D-did I do something wrong? Is this about last night?” He was slightly shaken from his own nightmare, but running to Hector had helped. He had woken that morning in his uncle’s room, only distantly aware of how he had gotten there, but with the harsh reminders of his bad dream written across his own dark-circled eyes. It had only occurred to him upon waking up that maybe Hector wouldn’t be thrilled with that. At the time, it was the only thing he could think to do.

“Nah. You’re fine. That’s not a problem. I just need to pick up some milk and eggs and such. I can’t keep cows and chickens and such here since I’m not always around.” He smirked slightly, looking more like himself. “Don’t tell Adira or anyone. She thinks I’m here permanently.” He held out an arm to Varian. Hesitant, inviting. Varian leaned into the hug. Hector was very clearly tense and upset about something, but he was also very clearly not going to say what it was. He hardly ever talked about what was wrong with him.

After his uncle left, Varian and Ruddiger crashed in the scroll room with mugs of hot cocoa (not as good as Hector’s, but their attempts were getting closer every time) and started scanning the papers scattered haphazardly from where they had left off yesterday. In between training and exploring, this was where they spent most of their time. The mental challenge was invigorating, and Varian welcomed it after so long without it. In any space where there were not shelves, notes stuck to the walls and colorful chalk drew lines between connected points. The room had shifted from archaic library to workspace in the span of a week (with Hector’s approval, of course). Comfy chairs and cushions had been added at Hector’s insistence, though Varian assured him all he needed was a few desks. He tended to walk around a lot when working.

A few hours after setting to work, Varian was doing push-ups over a scroll he was translating—just because Hector wasn’t here did not mean he was allowed to slack off for a day—when an oddly-familiar word jumped out at him. He tilted his head slightly to see it better from his left eye, then jumped to his feet and ran to a nearby table to compare the scroll to another he had found yesterday.

“’Ally’?” he murmured. “What? That doesn’t make any sense…” He double-checked his translation, then compared the first two to a third scroll. “Yep, that’s ‘ally.’ But that doesn’t make any sense! Zhan Tiri and Lord Demanitus were enemies, weren’t they? Why would they be described as allies?” He glanced to Ruddiger, who shrugged.

He started digging through the archived scrolls. Could Lord Demanitus not have at least been organized? He thought of the state of his old lab at any given time and laughed. Far be it from him to criticize the shoddiness of a genius’s filing skills.

“Here we go!” He unrolled one of the scrolls and placed it on a desk. “This looks like a history of his research. Hm… meh, machines, alchemical stuff…” He flinched involuntarily. Demanitus had been an alchemist, and a brilliant one at that; but every reminder was just salt in the wound, and digging through his papers brought up plenty of bad reminders. Fortunately, most of his work had been in engineering. Some of it crossed with his alchemical pursuits, but not all of it. “I’m just seeing a history of his inventions and stuff. Not much about—hold up!”

He examined a date on the paper, then ran back to the shelf. “I saw this somewhere! Oh, which one was it… come on…” He scaled the shelves, grabbed one of the papers, lost his footing, and fell flat on his back. Unfazed, he jumped back up and lay the scroll next to the others, pointing to the historical record. “’Kay. This mentions a portal he built to fight Zhan Tiri. The date is the same as this—” here he pointed to the text he had just grabbed— “and this talks about ‘a dark day.’ There’s not a lot of details, but the word ‘ally’ is used here again. I see… ‘heartbreak’? No, ‘brokenhearted.’ And ‘banish,’ I think. ‘Trusted’… Okay, I think it says, ‘This is a dark day. I am brokenhearted at having to banish my once-trusted ally.” He ran his hand through his hair, accidentally knocking the pin holding his bangs back. “Crap.” He picked up the pin, readjusted his bangs, and kept working. “So if the portal was built to banish Zhan Tiri, and Demanitus had to banish a ‘once-trusted ally,’ either he banished two people through the portal, or he and Zhan Tiri used to work together. It was probably the second, since he doesn’t mention two people getting tossed through the portal.”

Ruddiger gave him an unimpressed look as if to ask why this was at all relevant.

“This is incredible,” Varian breathed. As he spoke, his voice got faster and faster. “Zhan Tiri was a legend. A scary story parents told to their kids. But this… oh, if she—and I think Zhan Tiri was a she, considering that’s what the scrolls say—if she was working with Demanitus, then we know so little about who she was. About who they were. They worked together! Was she an alchemist, too? No, the scroll uses the word ‘magician’…” He pulled four more scrolls out and added them to the rapidly-growing pile. “Imagine what this means! Demanitus was a genius, but that means Zhan Tiri probably was, too. What did they work on together? Did they combine magic and engineering? Demanitus worked with magic, too.”

Suddenly he froze and turned to the raccoon. “Ruddiger, if this is true, if they worked together and Zhan Tiri went bad, that means Demanitus had to fight a friend. Someone he trusted. Argh, I wish I could finish decoding these! I’m only getting a few words here and there. What was that like for him? To know he had to banish a friend?” He winced. “It probably hurt. She betrayed him.”

With a deep sigh, he collapsed in one of the chairs. “I know what that’s like. From both sides.” Ruddiger hopped up in his lap and purred softly. Varian buried his hands in his fur. “I messed up. So did she. We’ve already had a confrontation. Was her letting me get thrown in jail the same as Demanitus building that portal to stop Zhan Tiri? I mean, I definitely deserved it, but she’s not innocent, either. And she never had to face what she did to me.” He picked Ruddiger up and looked into his eyes. “Am I just reading too much into this? Being overly dramatic?”

Ruddiger tilted his head. Then he reached out and tugged at Varian’s hair, causing it to come free from the pin again.

“Point taken. Moving on to new, less depressing topic.” He stood and went back to the scroll he had been working on in the first place, putting his distracted thoughts of _her_ behind him. Enough time to stress about that when she got here.

O‴O‴O‴

As Hector and Kubwa raced back to the Tree, the warrior tried to let the rushing wind and rocking motion of his rhino relax him. It was a beautiful day, nothing was wrong, everything had been going wonderfully for a while now, and yet he was still tense and stressed. Maybe it was the impending arrival of the girl who had hurt his nephew. Maybe it was the relative calmness of the last few months, a calm before a storm, and all of it was about to come crashing down.

Maybe it was his nightmare.

He gritted his teeth angrily. He had never given free rein to his emotions before. A warrior could not afford stray thoughts or reckless attitudes. He must always keep himself in check. Had the years of solitude erased his mental training to the point where he could not get rid of the lingering remnants of his misplaced rage all these months later? And all because of a stupid nightmare?

He was just shaken, that was all. There was nothing wrong. No, everything was just fine. He had been telling the truth that they needed more food, but the main reason he had come out here was to clear his head. He would be just fine. He’d spend some time meditating when he got back. This was nothing he hadn’t experienced before. He’d just had to get out today to take time and think things over.

By the time he and Kubwa made it back, it was nearly sundown. He slid off the rhino’s back and grabbed the waterproof, ice-filled bags he used to store supplies. “I’m back, V,” he called, stepping through the archway. He petted Kubwa’s head fondly and headed to the kitchen to drop off the bags, storing the cold foods in a small cave behind the frigid waterfall that doubled as a cooler. The bearcats ran in and twisted around him playfully. He petted them and went to find Varian. “Kiddo? Where’d you go?”

A dark shudder passed through the Tree. He brushed it off; that happened every so often. An unfortunate side effect of the Heart. He started towards the scroll room, as that was where Varian spent most of his free time when he wasn’t training. A second shudder tore through the Tree, this one harder and longer.

That got his attention. Usually the Tree only acted like that if an animal or something got too close to the Heart. Probably nothing, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out. Make sure nothing was bothering it. He switched direction and started for the pit. The closer he got, the more he could feel the effects of the Heart. It was like a monster, clawing at the very air, fighting for dominance in his lungs and chest, setting his already-tense nerves on end. Or maybe the monster was inside him, and the Heart was bringing it to life.

The pit yawned wide open before him, dark and deep and barren. The light didn’t reach down there, at least not a lot, and the only way to see what was going on was to go down there.

Hector slid easily down the narrow pathway leading to the bottom of the pit. The closer he got, the heavier the dark force seemed to press on him, weighing him down. Once on the ground, his yellow eyes bore through the darkness towards the soft-blue glow of the spear lodged firmly in the crystalline, flower-shaped Heart. Something stood near it, watching it.

He creeped closer, sword at the ready, preparing to strike the figure. It was small, humanish, its head tilted at a peculiar angle—

Wait a minute—

“VARIAN!”

The boy turned in shock. He started to speak, but Hector didn’t give him the chance. The monster in his veins flooded his mind, filled his thoughts, made him see red. Or was it yellow-gold?

“What the _CRAP!_ You know better! I _told_ you this was dangerous and you weren’t supposed to get near it! What were you thinking? _You could have killed us all_! Is that what you wanted? _Is it?_ ” He could see Varian’s wide blue eyes in the dim light, filling with tears, his mouth open in a surprised O. Vaguely Hector was aware that he was yelling, but he didn’t stop. “When I tell you not to get near something, I mean it! It’s hard enough watching everything that goes on around here; I don’t need you doing stupid crap like this making my job harder!”

The instant his mouth stopped moving, his brain started moving, and the implications of what he had just done hit him. Varian was shaking, staring up at him in fear, tears now spilling down his face.

“I—I’m sorry—I didn’t—” A strangled gasp escaped his throat; his eyes darted around the way a wounded animal’s did when cornered. “I’m sorry!”

Hector wanted to kick himself. What had he just done? “Oh, crap, kid, I’m sorry! I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—”

Before Hector could finish the thought, Varian darted to the right, dodging around him with an expertness born from hard experience. His short legs had carried him halfway up the path by the time Hector knew what was happening.

“Varian? Wait, Varian! I’m sorry!” His words fell into silence, their intended recipient too far away to hear. “Varian, I’m sorry!” The air left his lungs, and his head pounded with the realization of his cruelty. In desperation, he ran after his nephew. But Varian had disappeared by the time he reached the top of the hole.

_What have I done?_

_What have I done?_

_What have I done?_

O‴O‴O‴

The blood was rushing in his head, the pounding of his footsteps sounding like thunder, blocking out any other noises. Someone was yelling behind him, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Not “someone.”

Hector.

Hector was yelling.

_You could have killed us all!_

_Murderer._

_“VARIAN!”_

_Monster._

_“Wait, please!”_

_You deserve to suffer._

He was back in prison, his hands over his ears to block out the sound, the words of his abusers, that infernal _yelling_ , ringing, hurting his ears, head throbbing, everything hurt, _why wouldn’t it stop, why couldn’t they stop yelling—_

Chittering.

Something was chittering in his ears, a weight had settled on his shoulders, he flinched away from the sudden weight _they were touching him and they were going to hurt him and they were yelling—_

The chittering continued. He forced himself to turn and look, spotting a familiar furry face near his own.

Ruddiger.

Ruddiger was here.

The raccoon hopped off Varian’s shoulder and motioned for him to follow him. His breathing constricted, his head feeling like it had been introduced abruptly to a brick wall, all he could focus on was following the ringed tail in front of him. Ruddiger was good. He would help him. He wasn’t dangerous like the guards.

Like Hector.

The raccoon found an alcove set high up in a wall of the Tree. Varian scaled the slope and slid into the alcove, curling up in the corner in a tiny ball. His chest heaved with gasping sobs, and salt stung his lips and tongue as tears rolled down his cheeks. Ruddiger nudged him and was immediately snatched into the boy’s death grip. Varian pressed his face into his friend’s fur, only becoming aware that his teeth were clamped down on his lip now that he was still. The salt of his tears mingled with the metallic taste of his own blood.

He hissed in shock and spit off to the side, trying to rid his mouth of that foul substance, then brushed his hand across his mouth. Ruddiger cooed and nuzzled into his chest, trying to distract him. Focusing on the noises Ruddiger made and the soft texture of his fur, Varian vainly attempted to control his breathing.

“Kid! Varian, where are you?”

He gasped and drew back further into the alcove. Hector hadn’t seen him, had he?

“Varian, I’m so sorry. Please, just—where are you? I’m sorry!”

He was biting his lip again, he was vaguely aware. It hurt like the dickens, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t make any noise.

Eventually, Hector’s footsteps faded away. Varian uncurled slowly. His grip on Ruddiger didn’t weaken. The raccoon was his lifeline, keeping him tethered to reality. That plus the pain and shock of biting himself until he bled. Again. His panic didn’t abate, though, but being aware he was having an attack and pulling himself out of an attack were two very different things. Unfortunately, the latter was nearly impossible. All he could do was ride it out.

Why had he gone down into that blasted pit? Had idle curiosity about Zhan Tiri and Demanitus been worth this? He had had no intention of touching the spear, hadn’t even considered it, really, but he had wanted to see the Heart, to know what it was like, to understand just what drove a person to banish an ally into another realm. He wanted to know if the history told by the victor was the true account, or if there was more to it than everyone else saw. The fact that no one talked about the alliance itself indicated that the story wasn’t what everyone had been led to believe. He wanted to know if he was the Demanitus or the Zhan Tiri of his story. His story had faded into oblivion the same way. Everyone saw their precious princess fighting against the evil alchemist of Old Corona. No one saw the child underneath the mask because they didn’t bother to look. But she had betrayed him first. Did that make her evil?

Curiosity. It was always his curiosity that ruined him. Would he ever learn to leave things alone? Did he have to have an answer to every question? Curiosity turned Hector against him. Curiosity led to countless disasters in his short life.

Curiosity killed his dad.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector slowly approached the alcove, the mug of hot cocoa steaming gently. He had seen the boy’s foot sticking out, then draw back when he heard Hector speak. To give him time and space, Hector had pretended not to see him. His next stop had been the kitchen to make a peace offering. Now he was back, about two hours later—he had needed time to collect his thoughts, and Varian needed time away from him—fully prepared to offer an apology.

Now to get Varian to listen to it.

“Hey, Varian?”

A soft hiss of shock came from inside the alcove, along with a shuffling that indicated he was trying to make himself smaller. Hector cautiously stepped closer, making sure not to block the entrance, and set the mug inside. “Please, hear me out.”

When Varian didn’t immediately charge past him, he continued. “I’m sorry. I messed up. I never should have yelled at you, and I never should have said what I said. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He fought past the growing lump in his throat. “I messed up, kid.”

A pale hand reached forward and grabbed the mug, quickly retreating back into the hiding place. Progress. Trying to keep his tears inside his head where they belonged, he placed his forehead against the wall, resting his hands on the edge of the alcove, and continued, “As a warrior, I was trained to keep my emotions in check. I was never as good as Adira or Quirin, but I did okay. I failed today. I was tired and stressed and frustrated, and I took it all out on you, and I was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m not a great person. I can’t promise I’m not going to mess up again. But I promise to try to be better. I promise to apologize when I mess up. This whole ‘taking care of a kid’ thing is kinda new to me, so would you be okay with being patient with me while I try to learn?”

He waited. Varian was silent, still, giving no indication that he had heard. Hector sighed but didn’t move. When a small hand reached out and touched his, he nearly jumped out of his skin but regained his composure before startling the boy. He kept his head down but stretched his hand out further, letting it slide into Varian’s.

It wasn’t a full answer. It wasn’t even forgiveness. But it was progress, and it was more than Hector deserved.

For now, it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is why we don't suppress unhealthy emotions, children!
> 
> So I'll be adding a few more chapters to the Great Tree arc than I originally planned.


	14. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really wanted to get something done for the tenth anniversary, but that didn't happen; sorry. So I know it's two days  
> late, but HAPPY TANGLED TENTH ANNIVERSARY!!!

In the days following, Varian walked on eggshells around Hector. It pained the warrior to see. His nephew didn’t have the same spark to him, the same vibrancy. His eyes were constantly shifting, he startled easily at sudden noises, and he was back to not speaking as often. Months of recovery had been damaged by Hector’s idiocy, by one lost temper. Varian wasn’t as bad off as he had been when Hector had first found him, but in some ways, this was worse. It was worse because it was _Hector_ he was afraid of. It was _Hector_ who had hurt him.

After that debacle, Varian had attempted to continue training, but Hector had quickly brought a stop to that, saying they needed a break for a week or so. The boy had stubbornly insisted he was fine, but he flinched at sudden motions, and Hector didn’t want to be the one to cause him to fear physical contact any more than he did. As a compromise, they stuck to exercise and mental training and avoided combat training altogether.

Ruddiger, of course, never left his boy’s side. He glared at Hector any time the man got close to them. Once, Hector made the mistake of reaching out to put a hand on Varian’s shoulder. The raccoon’s teeth had sunk almost all the way through his glove. Not enough to break through completely, but Hector did sport a nice set of bruises after that.

There was one bright side, though. After his apology, Hector had realized with a shock that he had used the word “promise,” which he had tried to avoid around his nephew. But Varian either hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind. If that could be considered a “bright side.”

Four days after his mistake, Hector was repairing the leg of a table Kubwa had knocked over when the bearcats had ambushed him playfully. The repair wasn’t hard, but his distracted thoughts made him lose focus and smash his finger between the two planks of wood. “Crap! That hurts like the dickens!”

A frightened gasp came from behind him. He whirled around to see his nephew standing there, having just come through the nearby doorway. The doorway which the damaged table sat to the right of. More than likely, Varian hadn’t even seen Hector until he yelled.

Oh, crap.

“Sorry, kiddo.” He kept his voice controlled and calm. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I-it’s okay,” he whispered. “Sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do nothing.”

Varian winced. “Sorry. I mean—”

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.”

Varian looked like he wanted to say something else but refrained. He started to walk away. Ruddiger, perched on his shoulders, glared back at Hector vengefully.

“Kid, wait.”

He stopped, his shoulders hunched, and turned back to Hector.

“We need to talk.” Hector motioned for Varian to sit and waited until he did so. The boy kept a good distance between them, placing Ruddiger in his lap. “Look, it’s been tense around here for the last few days, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or anything, but—just yell at me! Be mad! Something! I can’t stand seeing you all timid like this knowing it’s my fault. You have every right to be angry at me, so… please just say _something_!”

Varian rubbed his arm uncomfortably. “I’m not mad,” he murmured.

“You should be!”

He shook his head. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not. I know you would never have touched it. There were a million better ways I could have handled that situation.”

“I disobeyed you.”

Hector shook his head. “Yeah, but that didn’t give me the right to do what I did. I hurt you.”

He could see Varian’s mind running a million miles an hour. “Why are you apologizing?” he finally asked. “People don’t apologize to me.”

“Well, I do. I’m mature enough to admit when I do something wrong. Look, if you can give me one good reason why I shouldn’t apologize, I won’t.” This might work. Getting him involved in a mental exercise might help break the ice a bit.

Varian tilted his head. “I messed up,” he argued. “This was my fault. I deserved to get yelled at.”

“Not a good excuse.” Hector crossed his arms. “I messed up, too.”

“I started this.”

“And I made it worse. Still not a good reason. Try again.” There was something dark in his eyes, Hector could see. If he could force Varian to bring it to the light, maybe they could deal with it. But it had to be Varian’s choice. Hector could only push so far.

“I…” he was grasping, struggling, trying to justify Hector’s behavior against him. The man was sickened all over again by how he had been conditioned to do that. And he had only compounded the problem. Taking away the possibility that Varian deserved it, that Hector was somehow in the right, left the child dazed and confused. The thought that someone else might have done something wrong and actually _admit_ it was foreign to him. “I’m not a good kid,” he argued weakly.

“Wrong. You are. And even if you weren’t, that’s still not a good excuse. Sorry.” That wasn’t what Varian had wanted to say, he knew, but he wasn’t sure how far he could go to get to the truth without hurting him worse. “Try again.”

His nephew bit his lip. Hector fought the urge to order him to stop. Then Varian’s next words stole his breath.

“I… I made you do it,” he whispered.

O‴O‴O‴

The conclusion had been hard to come to, but it made perfect sense. It was the reason why he couldn’t hold Hector’s words against him. Even now, though, he could see his uncle struggling to understand, to realize what Varian meant. What he had done.

“Ooookay, you lost me. You didn’t make me do anything. That was my own bad decision.”

Varian shook his head. There had to be some way to explain, but he wasn’t quite sure how to put his thoughts into words. “It’s my fault. I made you bad.”

Hector blinked in surprise. “What the dickens, kid?”

“I made you bad,” he repeated. “That’s what I do. I make people bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Hector’s head dropped into his hand. “’Kay, that’s a no. You don’t make people bad or good. They make their own decisions.”

Varian wrapped his arms around Ruddiger, as if the raccoon was a shield. “No. I bring out the worst in people! I didn’t see it at first. It was easy to think the Coronans were bad for hurting me. But then there’s the princess. She’s pure and good, and everyone loves her, but she abandoned me. She doesn’t do stuff like that. Just to me. And there’s my dad. He was… he was amazing. But every time I messed up, every time I did wrong, I could see that look in his eyes. It was my fault for upsetting him. For making him disappointed in me. And you’re good. I can tell. But I made you yell at me. I bring out the darkness in people. In everyone.”

It was so simple. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before. Everyone around him, no matter how good or perfect, always turned. The only common factor was him. Only Ruddiger hadn’t turned, and Varian had taken the horrible step of mutating him anyway, forcing him to become a monster. It was as plain as the nose on that stupid advisor’s face. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it till now.

Hector was giving him that look now, that look that was an odd mixture of shock and horror. Varian hated that he thought the way he did months ago, thought that maybe Hector would see the error of keeping Varian around. He had trusted the warrior when he said he would never leave him behind, but it wasn’t safe for Varian to stay with him. He surely saw now that he was a bad person to be around, someone who would corrupt him and turn him dark like he did to everyone else.

“Oh, kid…” Hector reached out a hand to Varian but stopped when he involuntarily flinched. Ruddiger hissed angrily. “Varian, I don’t know why you think that, but you’re wrong, ‘kay?” He shook his head when Varian tried to protest. “You’re wrong. No one is perfect. No matter how wonderful someone seems, they’re human. We all mess up. We all do stupid junk like yell at people we’re supposed to be protecting. You don’t bring out the bad in people. You just happen to get on the receiving end a bit too much. That’s not your fault. Everyone has evil in them. You can’t blame yourself for that. All you can blame yourself for is what you do, the choices you make; and trust me, you do that enough. Don’t put everyone else’s actions on your conscience, too. It’ll get too heavy.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Varian argued. “I’m the only common factor.”

Hector rolls his eyes. “You’re a scientist. You know correlation doesn’t always equal causation. There’s no good scientific evidence to support the claim that people around you go bad because of you.”

“I—” He froze. True, the evidence of people turning pointed to the possibility that it was a problem with him, but Hector had a point. There was no actual scientific reason why that was true.

Was it not him, then?

But if it wasn’t him, that meant good people had darkness inside them. Could he believe that? He knew he certainly had a dark side. But people that everyone seemed to love, like the princess? Did she have darkness in her? She was the Sundrop!

And she was also human. And humans made mistakes.

“So then… well, how do you know it’s not me?” he challenged.

Hector’s eyes glanced off to the side for a second before he answered, “Because I’ve seen evil, kid. Lots of it. I’ve seen it in forms so true it’d melt your little child eyeballs. Pure evil that’s got nothing to do with you.” His shoulders slumped in a very uncharacteristic manner. “Trust me. Sometimes people just do evil things because they have evil in them.”

Varian hung his head in shame. He knew a thing or two about having evil inside.

“Hey.” Hector gently reached out a hand. Varian hesitated, but then he shyly took it. “Everyone does, ‘kay? Even me.”

“Why…” Varian bit his lip.

“’Why’ what?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “Why did you do it? Why… why did you get angry? I mean, I know I did wrong, but—you don’t usually do that. It was…”

“Extreme? An overreaction?”

“Scary.”

“Kid.” Hector shook his head. “I’m not about to try to give a good reason for what I did. It was wrong, and there’s no excuse.”

Varian let go of Hector’s hand and crossed his arms. “I told you my tragic backstory.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a traumatized kid. I’m an adult who should’ve known better.”

“Please. I want to know.”

“I… can’t. Sorry.”

He scootched closer and waited. Hector sighed. “You’re not going to stop asking, are you?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Fine. Let’s get some food, though. I don’t do tragic backstories on an empty stomach.” He stood and offered a hand to Varian, who allowed the man to pull him to his feet. Even now, it took effort to allow Hector to touch him, but he fought to bring his nerves under control. No sense in letting on how he felt. Especially when he wasn’t sure how to feel.

If what Hector said was true, then maybe he was overreacting about his effect on people. Hector told him all the time he wasn’t a lost cause, wasn’t worthless. Maybe he wasn’t the reason people turned bad.

Best to see what Hector’s answer was, though. He could probably clear some things up.

O‴O‴O‴

When they reached the kitchen, Hector immediately grabbed the ingredients for ham sandwiches. Maybe if he distracted the kid with his favorite food, he’d forget to ask questions.

Yeah, not likely.

“So what’s going on?” Varian asked softly.

Hector kept his back turned as he answered, “I told you. I’ve got no excuse.”

“You never act like that. Something’s wrong. I saw it that morning when you were making breakfast.”

“It’s not something I like talking about, ‘kay?”

“But it’s hurting you.”

“What?” Hector finally turned to look at him.

Varian was watching him with those big blue eyes. Even with one clouded over, he still managed to pull the best puppy dog eyes Hector had ever seen. “It’s hurting you,” he repeated. “You’re keeping all your problems inside because you think talking about them makes you weak. You never act like I’m weak for telling you things, though, so why won’t you?”

Yikes. He hadn’t known he was that transparent. Unfortunately for him, Varian was determined to find out about Hector’s problems, and there would be no getting out of this without explaining. Maybe it would be better this way. No more secrets between them. Finishing up with the sandwiches, he set a plate in front of Varian and sat across from him. “Fine. First things first, I want you to remember I’m not mad or upset with you. For anything, ‘kay?”

Varian nodded and gave one of the sandwiches to Ruddiger, who swallowed about half in one bite.

“Good. You remember I told you my siblings and I were close once, right? Then the Dark Kingdom fell, Quirin left, and Adira committed treason.” He laced his fingers in front of his face and rested his head on his thumbs. “It hurt. I thought we’d always fight beside each other. When Adira started talking about the Sundrop, I tried to get her to see reason, but she wouldn’t listen. I knew I was losing her. Maybe it was my own fault. I should have tried to understand her. But Quirin… I didn’t ever expect him to leave the mission. He traveled for a bit, then met a girl and settled down in Old Corona. Had you.” A deep sigh rattled his bones. “I suppose it’s because I didn’t expect him to go that made it hurt so bad. I didn’t know I’d lose him. He came to see me here before he left, and we got in a fight. We’d write letters back and forth every once in a while, but it wasn’t the same. Then I heard rumors about the battle and decided to go check on him.”

He stood and started pacing, unable to look at Varian, despite knowing it wasn’t his fault. “When I saw him there… When I saw his body, I didn’t know what to think. It was… awful. I was powerless to help him. I tried to get him out. When that didn’t work, I-I got mad. Furious. I wanted to know who did it so I could make them pay.” Across the table, Varian shrank into himself slightly. Hector forced the cold edge out of his voice and continued. “I’d only felt that sort of anger a time or two, and only when people messed with my family. It’s the same way I felt when you told me what those monsters did to you. So I started asking around, found out about you, and decided to help you. That’s—I wasn’t mad after that. Not at you. I couldn’t be, not after… not after everything.” He leaned against the counter. “Then a few days ago, I got a nightmare about that. Brought all that back up again when I just wanted to forget it. So I was jittery and moody, and then I saw you at the Heart, and I just lost it. Snapped for no reason. And I’m sorry.”

Varian was watching him with that little head tilt. Truth be told, it made Hector nervous. He was being judged, tested, scrutinized, to see if he was worthy of being Varian’s guardian. If his nephew decided it wasn’t worth the risk to stay, if he thought Hector was too dangerous, then what? It would destroy him to lose this kid who had become so important to him in such a short time, especially if he lost him because of his own stupidity.

He should have made up some excuse! There had to have been a better answer he could have given him other than “I hated you when I first heard about you because I thought you murdered my brother.” How the dickens was the kid supposed to take that?

Every inch of his impressive 6’10” wanted to talk his way out, to explain himself, but he’d already said enough. No sense in digging a deeper hole for himself. He kept quiet and watched the gears turning in Varian’s head. The boy’s eyes held a pain and heaviness no child should have to bear. The reminder of Quirin’s death couldn’t have been easy to hear, especially coupled with the fact that it had led to Hector wanting to kill him.

He could imagine Adira mocking him, the way she used to when they were kids. _Way to go. Always had to open your mouth and insert your foot, didn’t you?_ Well, he’d tried ignoring his emotions for four months, keeping his mouth shut about what was bothering him, and look where that got him. Full honesty might be better this time.

Varian stood and silently got a pot from one of the cabinets. Then he got some milk from behind the waterfall. Hector moved over to the table to give him space. Maybe this was Varian’s way of processing. He was more than likely used to doing alchemy to get his mind off whatever was bothering him. Without that, cooking was probably the closest substitute he had.

Then he saw the ingredients Varian had retrieved. A small smile found its way onto his face as he watched the boy and his raccoon work. As the milk heated, Varian came and sat at the table with Hector.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

“I… I was scared.” It hurt to admit. The last time he’d said that, he was a child, and his siblings were there with comforting open arms. But he needed to be honest. No more hiding things from his kid. “I was scared that you’d hate me. Scared I’d do something stupid. Look, I got a lot of bad reasons for not talking to you. I don’t really do ‘opening up about my feelings.’ Never have, even with Quirin and Adira.”

Varian cracked a smile. “Hypocrite.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“You’re all about me talking about my problems, but then you shut down when anyone asks about yours.”

“I know.”

Varian stood and moved over behind Hector, draping his arms across his shoulders. “No more hiding things, ‘kay? If I’m gonna be open and honest, you have to be, too. Deal?”

“Deal. Quick question, though; how come I’m the one spilling my guts when we’re supposed to be talking about you?”

Varian stuck his tongue out and went to check on the milk. A few minutes later, he answered, “Because we’re family. We both hurt sometimes, but we can be there for each other.” He looked over his left shoulder. “You’ve been helping me for months. I want to help you, too.”

If it were possible for Hector to love this kid even more, he did so now. His kid—his scarred, abused, abandoned kid—wanted to help him. Wanted to know what he was feeling so he could support him. So he could be there for the man who had yelled at him and betrayed his trust and hurt him. For the man who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Varian.

“I’m sorry I got near the Heart,” Varian said after a few minutes. “I knew better. I just wanted to see it. I shouldn’t have disobeyed you.”

“I forgive you.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t see how you felt about Dad’s death. You were brothers. I should have paid more attention to your feelings.”

Hector shook his head. “No. You couldn’t have known. I don’t let on how I feel. That’s my fault. I’m sorry I lost control and yelled at you. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Varian checked on his stovetop concoction, where Ruddiger had been keeping an eye on it. He threw the rest of the ingredients into the pot and stirred. When it was finished, he ladled it up into mugs and handed one to Hector. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you.” Hector sipped the hot cocoa. “That’s actually pretty good! You’ve been practicing.”

“I’ve almost got it like yours!”

He placed the mug on the table. “Also, I’m sorry I used the word ‘promise’ when I apologized after that. I know it bugs you.”

Varian shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t like it when people make promises, but I know you’ll keep it.”

“How do you know?”

“You’ve kept the rest of them.”

“I didn’t make any promises.”

“Yeah, you did.” Varian sat next to him. “Maybe not in so many words, but I know what you promised yourself about me. You promised to protect me. You promised to help me recover. To keep me away from the Coronans and take care of me. You’ve been making promises the whole time. And you’ve kept them.”

“Not very well. I hurt you.”

He shrugged. “Like you said. We all mess up. But you made it right. You didn’t just let it go and pretend it didn’t happen. You’re keeping your promises.” He hugged his thin frame. “I’m probably still going to be touchy about that from anyone else, but I trust you. Sorry if I forget and slip up sometimes.”

“Eh, we’re both learning. I suppose we’ll just have to be patient with each other.”

Varian smiled and nodded. “I think we can do that. It’s what family does.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.” Hector’s smile was sad but genuine. “We can do that.”

The words were a promise, though neither said so. They didn’t have to. They knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me; just over here thinking about the best boys in the world. And Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who do that! If you don't, have a wonderful day anyway!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	15. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which conversations (and panic attacks) are had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, being tied up, hitting, threatening, mentions of previous violent injuries, hurt animals

“’Kay. So you’re running from a bigger, faster opponent.”

“Why am I running?”

“Because you’re sickly and small and they want to kill you.”

“Fair enough.”

Hector crossed his arms. “Tell me what you do to get away.”

“Run faster?”

“Aaand you’re dead.”

Varian groaned. This was the seventh time he’d been declared “dead” this morning. “Fine. What’s the answer?”

“If you’re running from an opponent, find a wall. Your move is this.” He ran at the wall of the training room, jumped up, and planted his right foot against the wall, twisting back to kick with his left. “Straight to the abdomen,” he coached. “ _Then_ you either kill them or run. Try it.”

Varian copied the movement. Hector watched him calculatingly. “Watch your posture. Again.”

As he repeated the move time and again, he made an effort to mimic Hector’s smooth, easy motions. The months of training reminded him that he didn’t have to be as good as the warrior yet and it was more important that he perform properly rather than prettily, but he envied the way his uncle seemed to move like lightning, like a cat, like water, depending on the situation.

“Keep practicing,” Hector grumbled. “I’ve got work to do.”

“What’s wrong? You’re moody again.”

“I’m fine.”

Varian crossed his arms.

Hector rolled his eyes. “I don’t like this. She’s late.”

“The princess?”

“Yeah. Figured she’d be here weeks ago.”

Varian shrugged. “Maybe we got lucky and she’s not actually coming.”

“Hmph. And when do we ever get lucky?”

“Touché.”

He shook his head. “She’s coming. Don’t know when. I’m going out to scout.”

“Can I come?” Over the last month and a half, he often went out on scouting trips with Hector and the animals. He was learning the paths travelers took, the natural and manmade traps that protected the Tree, and the local flora and how to use it.

Hector shrugged. “Sure. C’mon.”

Of all the things Varian had adjusted to, riding on a rhino was perhaps the strangest. He was familiar with horses, but Kubwa was not a horse, and it had taken a good while to get used to it. He clung tight to the saddle, Hector keeping him steady from behind. They raced out of the Tree, the bearcats by their side and Artemis flying overhead. Ruddiger perched on Varian’s shoulders, as usual.

As they traveled, Varian tried to focus less on the beautiful scenery and more on the things Hector had taught him to watch for. Broken branches, tracks, the flight of birds, etc. Anything that might signify someone or something had passed by. Nothing seemed to be amiss. A few times, Hector directed his attention to markings that showed where a deer had passed or a rabbit had grazed.

Without warning, Kubwa suddenly skidded to a stop. Hector jumped off his back.

“What’s wrong?” Varian asked.

Hector held up a hand and examined the ground. “Horses,” he finally answered. “Two riders came this way then turned around and went back. Probably got spooked by the gorge off that direction if they didn’t know the way around.”

Varian tried to shake his unease. “If they went back, do you think they’re gone now?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Best not to take chances.” He held up his hands to help Varian down off Kubwa. Then he motioned him to get on Riki’s back. “Go back to the Tree. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“But you said I could come with you!”

“Don’t argue. Just go.” Riki leaped into action, carrying his passenger back to safety. The boy turned to look back, seeing Hector examining the tracks again.

He had no doubt his uncle would be fine. Hector was the greatest warrior Varian had ever seen, and bandits or invaders were no match for his skill. But what if there were too many of them? What if they had already passed them and made it to the Tree? Riki could possibly fend them off, but Varian didn’t have enough training.

Well, he was determined to protect the path. He’d learned a good bit, and it wouldn’t be the first time he went to war outnumbered.

_But you had alchemy then_ , the unhelpful part of his brain suggested.

_Shut up,_ he reminded it.

They reached the Tree, and Riki ran straight for Varian’s room. The boy slid off and watched as the bearcat ran back to search the area. Varian started to exit the room, but Riki suddenly appeared in the doorway and growled at him. The message was clear: _Stay_.

…Yeah, maybe he’d train more before taking anyone on. His track record was pretty bad so far. With any luck, Hector would take care of everything.

O‴O‴O‴

A screech from Artemis guided Hector in the direction of the invaders. Kiki, who had split off to search, ran up to the warrior and motioned back the way he had come.

“How many?”

Kiki stamped his foot six times.

“Right. Show me.” If they were normal bandits, six would be child’s play. If they were professionals, he might actually get a workout in today.

_Check the arrogance, old man. Can’t afford to take chances._

Sure enough, he wanted to slap himself as he came over the edge of the hill. A yellow and purple caravan sat in the road, and two women stood chatting nearby. One of the women had a distinctive ankle-length braid.

The Sundrop.

The princess.

The girl who had ruined his nephew’s life.

Kubwa’s thudding footsteps apparently got their attention, and they turned to look in surprise.

All the fury that Hector had held back for months, all the righteous anger that he had placed aside in order to keep his focus where it belonged, flooded his mind. These people had no place here. They had no business coming here, threatening his home, his mission, his nephew.

_Control. Do not lose control. There’s too much at stake._ He steeled his nerves and prepared to attack, unable to hide the sneer of disgust as he looked at the two betrayers and would-be thieves.

A man stepped out of the caravan and yelled in surprise when he saw Hector. Kubwa roared and reared up on his hind legs as all three jumped onto the front seat and spurred the horses to action. They bolted like fire was licking at their tails. The defenders gave pursuit.

The caravan bumped and clattered over the uneven road. Kubwa started to gain, plowing through a tree growing in the path without even slowing down. Her Royal Interloper poked her head up over the caravan to stare back at them, but the man quickly pulled her back down. Kubwa got close enough to slam into the side of their ride, and Hector heard the sound of hollering from the other side.

They were approaching the mountain path. The party charged straight onto it, running along the cliffside. If Kubwa could knock them off the edge to the right…

Then the caravan split in two.

He had only a brief minute to be shocked before zeroing in on the blonde braid blowing in the wind from one half and following that. The second half darted up onto another path just above and to the left of the first, Kiki hot on its tail. _Varian would love to see that,_ he thought. The kid was fascinated by anything strange and odd. A dividable caravan would be a great trophy to bring back if he was forced to kill the occupants.

Killing hadn’t originally been his plan; he’d hoped just to be able to turn them around. But if they wouldn’t back down, he would have no qualms about ending them. They had already done enough damage to Varian.

The dark-haired, muscular woman climbed up onto the top of the princess’s caravan. Hector drew out a flail, swinging the spiked end of it into the back of the caravan and fixing the chain on Kubwa’s saddle. The rhino kept just far enough back to keep the chain taut. Hector stood and stepped out onto the chain, walking towards the woman, who had climbed down onto the back porch. She flung a chest at him, and he sliced it aside easily without faltering. This one must be Cassandra, then. Half of him wanted to charge her, to make her know the same fear that Varian had of her, but the wiser half told him to keep steady. The chain swayed slightly underfoot, and the wind tearing through his hair and clothes threatened to unbalance him. He kept his core tight and focused on each step, coming closer and closer.

“None shall enter the Dark Kingdom!” he snarled. His gaze drifted only slightly to where Kiki was biting at the edge of the second caravan. The bearcat tore a plank of wood off and stabbed it into the wheel, causing the caravan to flip. It had reached the end of the high path, and as it fell, it landed on top of the first one. The motion almost unbalanced Hector, who bent his knees to adjust to the looseness of the chain. Kubwa drew back enough to pull it tight again. Three of the men quickly shoved the two halves apart again, landing the second one on the ground.

Did the laws of physics not apply to these people?

A flash of red and gray caught his eye from the path above. Something flew at the caravan, landing on the back and snapping the chain. He jumped as it disappeared out from under him, flipping through the air to balance on the top of the carriage.

Adira.

_You’ve got to be joking._

Of _course_ she’d be with the Sundrop! Looks like she found it after all.

But if she was with the princess…

How much did she know?

Did she know about _Varian_?

His wayward sister leaped up to join him. Hector barely deflected a swing from her sword, the black rock blade whistling as it cut through the air near his face. His own sword screeched in response to the blow as he knocked it aside. But he had gotten distracted by his thoughts, and he didn’t see her foot until it connected with his abdomen. Losing his balance, he hit the ground hard and was unable to regain his footing before he was tumbling off the edge of the cliff, down to the river below…

O‴O‴O‴

Varian planned to stay put. He really did. But when he heard Riki screech, he jolted up from his book in shock. If the bearcat was hurt, then the thieves were here. And if the thieves were here, then Hector—

_No! Don’t think like that._ He had to do something! Uncle Hector could be hurt, maybe dying! He couldn’t just sit here. Eyeing the bow and arrows by his bed with skepticism, he shuddered. Hunting was one thing, but being willing to shoot a human was another.

But he didn’t have time to set traps if they were already here! And he had a job to do. He was supposed to protect the Tree and the Moonstone. Setting his jaw, he grabbed the weapons and Ruddiger and ran out.

He stalked along the corridors, arrow set to the string, shaft loose in his fingers. He’d learned to do most of his fighting left-handed to make up for his lack of vision on his right side. Thankfully, Hector’s ministrations and teaching meant his formerly broken arm was now as strong, if not stronger, than his other. Ruddiger crept by his side, staying off his shoulders in case he had to shoot.

Where was Riki? The binturong might need help. It had already been about twenty minutes since he cried out. If Varian could find him, he had some bandages in his belt. Hector always insisted on preparedness—

His thoughts were cut short by a cold wave of darkness, faint and distant but enough to leave him struggling for breath. His energy from a minute ago fled. Shuddering in horror, he reached down to stroke Ruddiger’s fur. The raccoon was breathing laboriously as well. What was that? It felt different from the dark energy of the Great Tree. It was somehow shallower, colder, but no less powerful. Where had it come from?

It grew stronger, deeper, more soul-draining. He stumbled backwards to get away from whatever it was. Mere minutes after it began, as Varian warred in indecision whether to find the source or get to a safer location, it ended.

Well, that answered that question. Now to find what had caused it.

O‴O‴O‴

“Riki?” He kept his voice low. No sense in alerting everyone else to his presence. If the bearcat was anywhere around, he didn’t make a sound.

Varian tapped the wooden bow nervously. No sign of Riki. No sign of Uncle Hector. No sign of invaders. The Tree was too quiet, too still. It didn’t bode well, whispering thoughts of danger, of knives in the darkness, of shadows crawling beneath the skin and into the heart. His home was dark, and no creature dared disturb the air.

Turning the corner to his right—that was his first mistake—he came to a halt as he encountered a group of frighteningly familiar people.

No.

No, no please no, anyone but them, please…

One of them stepped forward. Cassandra. He lifted his bow with shaking hands, but he couldn’t aim properly. Why were they here why did they have to come here _where the dickens was Uncle Hector_ —

The weapon slipped from his trembling grasp, and he stepped back. Ruddiger hissed beside him.

“Varian?” It was the princess speaking, he thought. It was hard to hear past the ringing in his ears.

Cassandra took another step forward. In panic, Varian turned on his heel and ran.

Footsteps thudded behind him. He tore through the body of the Tree, not knowing where he was going, he just had to go anywhere _away from them away from Cassandra away from the princess_.

“Varian, get back here!”

He kept running, running, running, he had to lose her, he had to get away, she would hurt him—

“Stop running!” Her voice was closer. She was gaining on him!

He wasn’t fast enough.

She was going to catch him.

They always caught him, right before they dragged him back to the broken shell of his house—his prison.

He hadn’t tried to run when they arrested him.

He hadn’t run during the months they hurt him.

He ran now.

A wall loomed up ahead of him. His eyes widened. If he could get to it in time, all it would take was a single kick to her stomach. Then he could find a place to hide! He kept running; closer, closer, almost there—

Her hand closed around his upper arm and jerked him to a stop violently. His feet skidded across the ground, unable to gain purchase. “Let me go let me go let me _go!_ ” he screeched. He yanked and twisted, but her unyielding grip dug into his skin. She started to drag him back, back to the group, back to the people who hurt him and left him and lied to him and used him.

Ruddiger snarled and bit at her legs. She kicked him aside like a rag doll. He struck the wall with a thud.

“ _RUDDIGER!_ ” Varian screamed. The raccoon stumbled to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He started forward again but fell on his tail. Then Cassandra was dragging him away again, away from Ruddiger.

Her hand on his arm was iron, unmoving, like the guards. Like Uncle Hector, but his hands were always outstretched, offering but not demanding. Cassandra’s hands were hard and unfeeling, not caring about the bruises she was leaving on his arm. Just like the guards.

_They wouldn’t stop hurting him, their gloved hands leaving marks across his face, his arms, twisting his wrists when he wouldn’t cooperate, breaking bones when he did, yanking his hair, holding him to a table, forcing his mouth open so they could drug him and hurt him they always hurt him why couldn’t it stop why wouldn’t they leave him alone—_

In terror, he slammed his fist against her arm repeatedly. Cassandra growled and twisted his arm painfully. He kicked at her ankle, but her hold never wavered. “No, let me go! Let go!” An attempt to stab her with the dagger on his belt led to just as little success, and she grabbed it and twisted it out of his hand.

“Stop fighting me!” she snarled. Inch by agonizing inch, he was hauled back against his will to face _them_ , the people he had hoped to never see again. The people who hated him. The people who had promised him everything and left him with nothing but pain and suffering.

He screamed and clawed and writhed, but she was unwavering. Not even when he sunk his teeth into her hand did she let go. Instead, she delivered a stinging slap to his face that left him dazed and disoriented.

“Give me the rope!” They had reached the group again, and someone—he couldn’t see who—handed her a length of rope. She forced his arms behind his back and had him tied before he could wrestle away from her. As the rope bound his wrists, his panic increased, if that were possible. “ _No, please stop! Let me go! Please!”_

“Varian, calm down!” It was the princess again. A bout of rage interrupted his blind panic. How _dare_ she tell him to calm down as if they were friends! How dare she look at him with that cursed sympathy in her eyes! He turned his head away from her, unable and unwilling to look at her any longer.

“How did you get here?” she asked. “It took us almost a year, and we had horses!”

“Probably broke out the day he got arrested and stole a horse,” Cassandra offered, her grip on his arms viselike. “I’m more interested in how he got out. We’ll need to know what to fix when we get the brat back to Corona.”

“No, stop it! Leave me alone! _Let me go!_ ”

Cassandra shook him roughly. “One more word out of you and I’ll gag you!”

“Cass!” the princess exclaimed angrily.

He shut up, though the tears streaming down his face screamed his distress for the world to see.

Too bad the world didn’t care. It never had.

O‴O‴O‴

Against his will, he was dragged along as the group made their way through the Tree. He’d tried to fight at first, but the guard—no, Cassandra—no, she was a guard—threatened to knock him out if he didn’t behave. She’d already searched him and taken his knives and lockpick. He could see the princess looking at him with that sad, compassionate look in her eyes he’d rather ignore. He didn’t need her pity. To be honest, though, he probably looked a sight. He hadn’t been nearly as battered and scarred the last time they met. That had been just after house arrest, when the guards contented themselves with leaving bruises that would fade with time, giving no evidence for their princess to see if she ever came looking.

Not that she ever did.

Aside from the princess, Cassandra, Fitzherbert, and the old man who agreed to be his assistant during the disastrous science expo what felt like an eternity ago, there were three he didn’t know—a thug-looking man with a hook for a foot; a young, well-dressed bald man who reminded Varian of a thief or bandit, and a tall woman with white hair.

It was this woman who caught his attention. Her appearance—half her face painted red, her hair twisted up into a braid with gold bands, the sword strapped to her back (was that blade made of the _black rocks?_ ), the mismatched earrings, and what was obviously _not_ Coronan battle gear—was startling enough, but it was the symbol on her belt and on the back of her right hand that drew his eye: a circle with three slash marks.

The Brotherhood.

Then this was Adira.

He had seen her speaking with the princess right after Cassandra took him prisoner. Probably getting information on who he was. After that, she kept an eye on him. Her gaze wasn’t unfriendly or hostile like the others; it was just curious.

The party trudged up a set of steps, coming to rest on one of the Tree’s platforms. Below was nothing but a solid drop, leading all the way back down to (if Varian had to guess based on their location in the Tree) the pit where the Heart resided. Upon reaching the platform, the boys dramatically threw themselves to the ground. Fitzherbert looked over the edge before sitting. “Whoo. Oh, it’s a long way down!”

Rapunzel put a hand on his shoulder. “I guess that means we’re at the half-way point.”

“I suggest we camp out for the night,” Ms. Adira offered.

Cassandra took offense to that idea. She shoved Varian down onto the lid of what looked like an old stone casket—he was scared to ask whose, and what it was doing all the way up here—and started arguing with the older woman. Varian tried to tune them out, curling into himself and attempting to rest. The only thing that seemed interesting about the conversation was when Cassandra mentioned another incantation. That must be the Moonstone’s incantation from the scroll room, then. Had she read it? Was that what caused the darkness earlier?

Oh, and now Rapunzel was yelling at Cassandra. How nice. Apparently, she trusted Adira more than Cassandra. Varian couldn’t care less.

The bodyguard stalked back to where Varian sat. Crap. He was hoping she’d forgotten about him. Of all the times to repeat her earlier mistakes, this would have been it. But no, she sat next to him and took the rope binding him in her hand.

Whispering from off to his right distracted him, especially since he had no inclination to turn his head and see who it was. Probably the bald one. “Was he always half-blind?”

“No, no,” Fitzherbert answered. “That’s definitely new.”

“Oh. How do you think that happened?”

“I don’t know. Ask him.”

“Hey, kid, how did you get half-blind?”

Varian winced at the reminder and rested his head on his knees. He had no inclination to talk to any of these people.

“I knew a man that was half-blind,” the old man, who seemed perpetually drunk, added. “No, wait, it was a horse. And it was missing a leg. Stole my wallet.”

Seeing Varian wasn’t answering, Cassandra decided to offer her unwelcome opinion. “Probably crossed some bandits on the way here. Or messed himself up with another alchemy disaster. The real question is what we’re doing with him now. Obviously, he has to go back to Corona, but we can’t take him now. We could take him to the Dark Kingdom, but I’m not too keen on the idea of waking up to a knife in my back.”

Yeah, like she was the one to talk about backstabbing.

“We’ll just… keep an eye on him,” the princess suggested. “Take turns keeping watch. We have to do that anyway, so it won’t hurt.”

“Hey, we could always leave him here for Crazy Rhino Guy,” Fitzherbert offered as he started a campfire. “He’s not a danger to us, he’s not a danger to Corona, and we don’t have to worry about transporting him!”

_Yes, yes!_ he thought. _Leave me here! I deserve it! You hate me, remember? Leave me for the Crazy Rhino Guy to deal with!_

“We can’t leave him here,” Rapunzel argued.

“I agree.” Adira looked up from examining the blade of her sword. “I wouldn’t put it past Hector to stoop low enough to hurt or kill a child, even Quirin’s child.”

Varian wanted to scream that Hector was the only one here he trusted _not_ to hurt him! But he kept his mouth shut. Whether from lack of desire to talk to these people or worry that Cassandra would go through with her threat, he didn’t know. He’d learned the hard way not to push Coronan soldiers too far.

The princess and her boyfriend whispered together for a few minutes. Then she came over to Cassandra. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Cassandra cocked an eyebrow and nodded her head at Varian.

“Eugene can watch him.” The princess clasped her hands.

“Fine.” Cassandra stood and handed the rope to Fitzherbert, who took her place on the casket. The girls walked away and sat by the edge of the platform, murmuring softly.

“Sooo…” the ex-thief began, “How did you get here, anyway? Couldn’t have been an easy trip, judging from the look of you.”

Varian didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“C’mon, kid. I know we didn’t exactly get along, but you can talk to Eugene, right?” He sighed when Varian refused to speak. “Okay, look. I know the thought of going back to prison’s not exactly entertaining, but it’s got to be better than whatever you’ve been through out here, right?”

Varian curled up further. He had no idea. Fitzherbert had no idea the things he had suffered. He tried not to hold it against him, but it was hard. This man had been his hero, his role model, and Varian had done everything he could to be worthy of his friendship. But when he needed him, Fitzherbert turned on him. He had left him to be persecuted and hunted without cause, then he didn’t give a second thought when he had been arrested and left in the hands of those sadists. He’d left on his little adventure with the princess and forgotten about the child who had reached out with desperate arms for any sign of acceptance.

“Kid?” Fitzherbert was still looking at him. _Go away please just go away and forget about me like you did back then._ “Okay, fine, I get it. You hate me, I hate you, you’re an escaped convict and you don’t want to go back to jail, but we can’t just let you go, and that means we have to know how you got here. Trust me. Living life on the run is no way to live. At least back in Corona, you’ll be safe. And the king promised to get you help. Maybe just give him a chance.”

Varian couldn’t hide his scoff of indignation. “Leave me alone,” he whispered finally. “You don’t know anything.”

“Really? I know what it’s like to try to make it on your own, constantly running from the law and doing anything to survive. I know what it’s like to have your back against a wall and only have bad options. But you’ve got an option in front of you now.”

Varian uncurled slightly and glared at the man. “Let me ask you this. Are you saying this because you actually care about what happens to me, or are you just upset that the kid who hurt your friends and family and committed treason isn’t being punished properly? Are you worried about the fact that a cell can’t hold me? Is all of your kindness just a ploy to figure out how to lock me up properly?”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “Come on, you can’t blame me. I mean, you threatened my family, the love of my life, everything I hold dear.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” He blinked in surprise. “Why what?”

“Why did I do what I did?”

“I… don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t.” Varian curled up again. “You of all people, the thief who got reformed by a princess, should know there’s usually more to the story. But you didn’t bother to ask because _you didn’t care_. You never cared. You still don’t. So stop pretending you do and _stay out of my life._ ” He turned away.

Fitzherbert sighed. “Kid…”

“Move, Fitzherbert,” Cassandra growled, coming up to them. The man stood and stepped aside. Cassandra grabbed Varian’s face and forced him to look at her. “Listen, brat. You don’t move. You speak only if you’re spoken to. You make her cry, I’ll break every last bone in your rotten little body, got it?”

“Cass,” the princess sighed. “It’s fine.”

The bodyguard released him and stepped back as her charge sat next to him. “I’m watching, and I’m listening.”

They watched her back as she walked over to the campfire and sat facing them. “So…”

“Are all of you going to start with ‘so’?”

She sighed. “This… isn’t easy, okay? It took long enough to convince Cass to let me talk to you at all, so can we just talk?”

“About what?” The _last_ thing he wanted to talk to her.

“About… what happened.”

He looked up at her in angry disbelief. “You want to talk about what _happened?_ What part? The part where I went crazy and attacked you? The part where I blackmailed you into helping me? Or how about the part where I nearly died in that blizzard? Or the men who beat me when I tried to leave home? Which part did you want to talk about, specifically?” He took small satisfaction in the look of surprise that crossed her face at the last two items on the list.

“Varian, I…” She wrung her hands anxiously.

“Look, do you actually want to have a conversation, or do you just want to remind me of everything I did wrong? Because believe me, I know.” He shuddered. “I knew what I did was wrong even before the guards ‘reminded’ me. I wanted so badly to apologize to you. But I never got the chance. And I’d do it now, I would, but I… I can’t right now. Not after what happened. Not yet.”

“What do you mean?”

He shuddered. “It’s… as weird as it sounds, I can’t. I spent months having it drilled into my head that I was the only one at fault for what happened, and I believed it. It took so long to see that I wasn’t.”

She crossed her arms. “What, you want to put blame for this on me, on my friends?”

He glared. “I wasn’t the only one who did wrong. We both know that. The only difference is that I admit what I did.”

“Varian, I told you! The blizzard—”

“Funny how you always go back to that. That was always your favorite excuse. ‘The blizzard! Oh, my people needed me!’ _I_ needed you, too. What happened after the blizzard, huh? Why didn’t you come? Why couldn’t you come help me? Why did you leave me?” He used his shoulder to brush away the tears in his eyes. He would not cry in front of her again. He’d already cried enough to last a lifetime. Tears were best saved for his panic attacks, anyway.

“I…” She had no answer. Not that he’d expected one. “Well, you could have come to me! You could have come back after the storm!”

“Princess,” he spat, “you let them throw me out in a snowstorm! I was sick for days! When I did get out, people hated me because of that stupid rumor I attacked you! There was no way I was getting to you. Even if I could, the masked men held me prisoner for almost a month!”

“What?” He knew she knew about the men—he’d sent that letter to bring her to his house, after all, and she’d seen them—but apparently the rest was a surprise to her. “What are you talking about? You wrote me a note when you needed my help!”

His shoulders hunched with the memory of the weeks he’d spent under their control. “And do you know the risk I took doing that? If they’d found out, they probably would have broken my legs.” Curling up further into his protective ball, regretting the fact that he couldn’t wrap his arms around himself, he whispered, “I waited. I waited for you. You promised. I waited while they came and interrogated me every few days and beat me when I wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know. I kept waiting… I thought you’d come. Every day, I told myself you’d come and rescue me. Every day I tried to free my dad, I _knew_ you’d keep your promise. So I waited. And then I realized you weren’t coming.” He shook his head. “I should have seen it. They were the royal guard. I didn’t know at first, but it didn’t take too long to figure out. If they were the royal guard, then you probably knew about what they were doing to me and just didn’t care. But I didn’t stop hoping. That’s why I sent the letter. Used you as a distraction to escape and hide.”

“Oh, Varian…” She sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked up at her in shock. “I couldn’t trust you! You lied to me! I didn’t know how much you already knew.”

“You could have told me the day you stole the flower—”

“Rapunzel,” he sighed. “I _tested_ you.” The words, so reminiscent of the ones he had said that day, lacked their earlier venom. Now they were laden with weariness and pain. “Those little ‘slip-ups’ I made? Talking about saving my dad rather than Corona? ‘They have their hands full’? Give me some credit. I’m a better liar than that. I tested you. I wanted to see if you’d be willing to help me if it was just me and my dad who needed help. But no, all you cared about was your precious kingdom. Not the people in it.”

For once, she was silent. She made no effort to argue or defend herself.

“Nothing to say, Princess?” he growled. “Good. I’m done listening to your poison words. Cassandra, I think we’re done here.”

Cassandra scowled. “You’re ‘done’ when Rapunzel says you’re done.”

“It’s fine,” Rapunzel interjected. “It—we’re done.” She stood and made her way back to the fire, letting Cassandra take her place once more.

The bodyguard stared down her nose at him. “You know, it might be smart not to isolate the one person here who might show you any sympathy whatsoever.”

“I don’t need her sympathy.” He rolled his shoulders back in a show of stubbornness. “It’s not like we’re friends.”

“That’s the sad part.” She crossed her arms. “You could have been.”

“What, if I’d accepted my proper place as her pet alchemist at her beck and call, to be used when she needs help and ignored when she doesn’t?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. I’m worth more than that.”

She humphed. “If you say so. Come on.” She hauled him to his feet and over to the campfire, where the bald man was cooking.

He looked up as they came over, his golden earring flashing in the firelight. “Hi! We didn’t get properly introduced. Name’s Lance.”

“Varian.”

“I know. You’re famous! Man, I could’ve only dreamed of having a reputation like yours at your age!”

“Lance!” Fitzherbert exclaimed. “We do not encourage children in a life of crime!”

“Right, sorry. Pancakes?” He held out a plate to Varian, who gave him a deadpan stare and shrugged his shoulders to draw attention to his still-bound hands. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Maybe we could untie him for supper,” the princess offered.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Cassandra shook her head. “Bad idea.”

“What, we just feed him then?” the other man, the one with the hook, offered.

“You try to feed me, I’ll bite your fingers off.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about!” Cassandra snapped.

The princess crossed her arms. “We can untie him.”

The bodyguard groaned and untied him. He tried not to flinch at the feel of her hands on his wrists. She tied the length of rope around one of his wrists and the other end around hers.

He had to admit, the man was a good cook, almost as good as Uncle Hector. He could only stomach a few bites, though, as coming off of a panic attack didn’t exactly give him a good appetite. He felt like he might be sick at any moment.

After supper, the white-haired warrior walked up to Cassandra. “I’d like to speak to Varian, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind, actually.”

Ms. Adira’s dark eyes bored into Cassandra’s as she towered over the shorter woman. “Let me rephrase. I need to talk to Varian.”

“Mm, sorry, I don’t think so. See, I don’t trust you, and you already mentioned knowing his dad, so I’d rather you didn’t have anything to do with him. I don’t need you helping him escape.”

“I have no intentions of setting him free. I just need to speak with him. If I need to ask the princess, I can. Technically she has final say in what happens to him even if you caught him, since she _is_ your boss.”

Cassandra glared but shoved Varian towards her, causing him to stumble over his feet. His hands had been retied, and he was unable to rebalance before collapsing into Ms. Adira’s stomach. She quickly reached out to steady him. Her hands on his arms were not cruel or bruising. She set him back up and let go quickly. Most might not have noticed, but he recognized the way she suddenly let go as if physical contact pained her.

She had a touch aversion.

Motioning him over to a seat away from the others, she sat cross-legged and reached up a hand to steady him as he copied the movement, again releasing as soon as possible. Her head tilted inquisitively as she looked him over.

“I have to admit, you’re not quite what I was expecting.”

“What did you expect?”

She shrugged. “Quirin didn’t exactly talk a lot in his letters, but he did mention you were a—oh, what was the phrase he used—‘my bright-eyed genius.’ He spoke highly of you. He just didn’t say you were a tiny little snip of a boy with barely enough weight to stay on the ground in a strong breeze.”

“He… said that?”

“Yep. Among other things. He was never overly affectionate, but he made an exception for you and your mom.”

“Really?” He knew his dad loved him, but “affectionate” wouldn’t have been the word he chose.

“Mm-hm. Getting a compliment out of him was like trying to drink rock powder. We were members of the Brotherhood together. Which I suppose makes me your aunt, in a weird way. Speaking of my brother, where is he? I know he wouldn’t have let you come all this way by yourself, even if you broke out of jail.”

_They didn’t tell her?_

His lips tightened in a thin line, and he turned away.

“Varian?”

He shook his head. The thought of explaining his dad’s fate to this warrior left him shivering. At least his enemies had given him the dignity of not calling him a murderer to her face.

Perhaps it was time to divert the conversation. “Why are you traveling with the princess?” he asked. He could guess, of course, but he wanted to change the subject, and it was the first thing he could think of.

“She’s the Sundrop. I have to take her to the Dark Kingdom if we want to stop the black rocks. She can counteract their source, the Moonstone.”

“How did you know it was her?”

“I saw her at the Battle of Old Corona.”

_Wait…_

“She was able to control the black rocks.”

_What?_

“Quirin wrote me a letter talking about her, so I came to see for myself.”

_She was there?_

“Y-you we-were there,” he gasped. Had all of the air suddenly left the Tree? She didn’t seem affected. “You were there. At the fight.”

She nodded. “Yes, why?”

The realization struck him like a cold wave on a hot day, though much less pleasant. “You could have stopped them,” he whispered, even as his mind screamed for him to _stop talking, this is dangerous, you don’t know her._ “You could have stopped them that day.”

“Stopped them from what?”

_Stop it!_

“Stopped them from hurting me. Stopped them from _torturing_ me!” His breathing accelerated against his will.

“…The Coronans?”

“Six months,” he rasped. “I spent six months being abused. You could have stopped them. Stopped them from blinding me, beating me, breaking bones, _burning me!_ You could have saved me. You were there!” He stared up at her, wild-eyed. “Did you know?”

Her mouth hung open in shock. “Varian, I had no idea. Really, I didn’t! I didn’t even know it was you the princess was fighting until today! She just told me! You-you’re saying they abused you in prison?” Her eyes searched the marks on his face and throat, the paleness of his right eye, the way his shoulders hunched as if expecting someone to hit him.

He nodded, not trusting his voice. She was the only person aside from Uncle Hector he’d dared say as much to, and his instincts were screeching for him to back down, to stop digging a deeper hole for himself, because it could become his grave.

She shook her head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know who she fought. I just followed her. I left Corona as soon as the fight was over.”

“You could have checked,” he spat angrily. “You could have gone looking for my dad! You could have asked who your precious Sundrop was fighting! You could have seen them hurting me!”

“You’re right.” She swallowed painfully. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“Y—wait, what?”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes glistened. “You’re right. I should have asked. If I’d known… well, I don’t know what I would have done, but I never would have let them hurt you. I wouldn’t have let them do this. Is that where all your scars came from?”

He nodded again.

She put her hand to her mouth like she’d be sick. If a warrior like Uncle Hector described her to be felt sick at this, he wasn’t sure how to take that. “I’m so sorry. I was so excited to finally find the Sundrop that I didn’t even stop to think. I hold myself at least partially responsible for what happened to you.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. She was apologizing? Without even knowing what had led him to do what he did? “What are you sorry for? I messed up! I did horrible things!”

“Maybe so. But no one does something like that without reason. Why did you?” Her dark eyes were searching, curious.

“I—I didn’t see a way out,” he whispered. “Everything hurt, and I was alone, and I lashed out. I was wrong.”

“Why were you alone? Where was Quirin?”

He clamped his mouth shut again.

“Varian.” She touched his chin—not harshly, not like Cassandra, and he tried not to jerk away—and tilted his head to look at her. “Listen, I am so sorry. If I could go back and change what I did, I would. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

Tears slipped from his eyes. She gently reached up a hand to brush them away—softly, kindly; if she was touching him and she didn’t like contact, then she was trying to be there for him—and he tried not to grimace as she accidentally touched the spot where Cassandra had struck him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… don’t know yet. Six months is a long time to hurt.”

“I know. I understand, and I don’t expect you to forgive me immediately. Just know I want to make this right. I can’t change what happened, but I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”

He wanted to plead with her not to make promises, especially since she didn’t know the full story, but he stopped. She was like Uncle Hector. Could she be trusted? Did she keep promises?

“Why do—why do you want to help me?”

“We’re family. And you’re just a kid. This never should have happened.”

That was what Uncle Hector told him.

Why? Why did all of the Brotherhood view him that way when everyone else saw a horrible villain who deserved to be punished? Why did they not insist he reap the consequences of his actions?

Because the consequences were wrong?

_Your debt was paid the hard way._

He couldn’t stop the tears. She saw more in him. Like Uncle Hector. Like Queen Arianna.

“Time’s up.” Cassandra’s cold voice sent a tremor down his spine. She started to reach for Varian’s arm to haul him to his feet, but Adira’s sword slashed through the air between the two of them.

“I’ll watch Varian,” she offered cheerily, as if she hadn’t almost severed Cassandra’s hand. “Thank you very much.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I let you talk to him. I didn’t say anything about letting you hold on to him.”

“Is there a problem?” The princess stood and walked over to them.

“Actually, there is.” Adira sheathed her sword. “I don’t approve of the way your lady-in-waiting treats my nephew. I’d prefer it if I were the one allowed to keep an eye on him from here on out.”

“Nephew?” both girls exclaimed at once.

Adira nodded. “Quirin is my brother. That makes me Varian’s aunt and, in absence of his father, his guardian. And I don’t like the way you treat him.”

“I don’t care what you like. He’s my prisoner.”

Adira turned to the princess. “I don’t know if any of you bothered to notice, but Varian has a panic attack any time Short Hair gets near him or touches him. Unless you want him to suffer, I’d advise you to leave him with the one person here who actually cares about him. I don’t want _her_ anywhere around him.”

Varian tried to choke back his laughter at the nickname, especially seeing the way it made Cassandra turn scarlet.

The bodyguard looked to the princess expectantly. “I don’t know, Cass,” she answered. “Adira may have a point. She can guard him.”

Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. “They’re family! She’s on _his_ side!”

“My job is to get the princess to the Dark Kingdom,” Adira argued. “That hasn’t changed. The only thing I’m asking to switch is who watches Varian. Or does someone showing sympathy to a child bother you?”

“It’ll be fine, Cass, really.” The princess put a hand on her friend’s shoulder as the woman gaped in rage. “I trust Adira.”

“I don’t,” she hissed as she turned and stalked away. “When this blows up in our faces, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Rapunzel followed Cassandra, and Adira pulled some blankets out of her bag. “We should probably get some sleep. The rest of the trip is bound to be this way.”

She stood and stepped behind Varian. He started to ask what she was doing but stopped as he felt the ropes on his hands slacken. She came around in front of him again and tied his wrists loosely.

“I’d leave you untied so you could sleep better, but I don’t think that would gain us any popularity with Short Hair.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” That was another thing he was, unfortunately, used to.

“And I meant what I said about not letting them hurt you again. As soon as the princess deals with the Moonstone, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of properly. We’ll find Quirin and get you home, or wherever you want to go.”

She looped the rope around her own wrist before collapsing on her blanket. He curled up at as far of a distance as the rope would allow and did the same. She may be the least hostile person here, but he still didn’t trust her.

He wasn’t about to be rude, though. “Good night, Ms. Adira.”

A soft gasp came from her direction. Her shoulder shook. For a minute he thought she was crying. But she wasn’t that sort, was she? Then he heard her laughter.

“Wh-what did you call me?”

“Sorry! Is it Mrs. Adira? Master Adira? Lady? Doctor? I don’t know what your title is.”

“Just Adira is fine. Or Aunt Adira, but you don’t have to call me that. Sorry, that’s probably weird. We just met.”

“Oh, um…” He didn’t know if he could say that yet. “Well, good night.”

“Good night, Varian.” She closed her eyes, and within seconds, her breathing deepened. He curled up and attempted to do the same.

_Please hurry, Uncle Hector._ He could only hope and pray his real guardian was still alive. Adira was nice, but he couldn’t rely on her. Not yet. _I don’t know if I can do this on my own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I have nothing to say for myself except sorry. Except I'm really not.
> 
> This one had my record word count of over 8,000 as opposed to my standard 4,000!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	16. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector comes for Varian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAND FINALS WEEK IS OFFICIALLY OVER!!!
> 
> So before I dump more angst on y'all, check out this absolutely amazing artwork by @toatoons on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/p/CIbYkmBFnoc/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
> 
> (also if anyone could tell me how to embed a link instead of dropping the entire address that'd be great)
> 
> Trigger warnings: blood, concussion, injured animals, mentions of thoughts of death (not suicidal)

His lungs were stinging, shivers wracked his frame, the pounding of his head threatened to drop him off into the pit of unconsciousness he had only recently crawled out of…

He coughed violently, water pouring from his lips. His chest ached. Something was underneath him—no, he was being shoved against something?

He forced his mind to come to grips. He’d fallen, right? Fallen into the river, hit something—a rock?—nearly drowned, ran into something big, held on for dear life, just barely keeping his head above water. Then he’d blacked out.

His senses started returning, the first thing he noticed unfortunately being pain. Forcing his weary eyes open, he looked at the sun. He probably hadn’t been out for more than a few minutes, but that was still too long. Turning his head, he could see that the structure supporting him was none other than the busted caravan.

Kiki and Kubwa skidded up to the edge of the river. Hector grimaced and pulled himself along the edge of the broken caravan, and the bearcat grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out onto solid land. He hacked up more water, the fire in his throat competing for attention with the throbbing in his head and the sensation of boulders crushing his abdomen. His fingers brushed against the side of his head, where blood mixed with the river water and matted his hair. He’d hit his head, right?

He turned to look back at the caravan. “Whe—az—t—” The broken attempts to speak caused a harsh cough to tear from his lungs. Weakly, he waved towards the caravan, which Kiki jumped on to and slipped in through a window. A moment later he returned, shaking his head.

It took Hector’s dazed mind a moment to determine what was wrong with that situation. When it hit him, he yelped and tried to sit up, a sudden wave of nausea threatening to tear out his insides. He groaned and placed his forehead against the cold ground.

A concussion.

Great.

He tried to push himself up, but Kubwa gently nudged him back down. “C-can’t,” he rasped. “Tr—Var.”

The animals looked up at the Tree in whose shadow they stood. Kubwa moved so Hector could grab the saddle and pull himself up, Kiki steadying him. As soon as he was on the rhino’s back, Artemis flew down and rested on Kubwa’s head, eyeing Hector judgingly. He probably looked like death, to be honest. He grabbed a canteen of water and downed about half of it in one swallow.

He tried to keep his balance on the swaying back of his loyal rhino, which was much harder than it should have been. He hadn’t had a concussion in years, and this was the worst possible time to have one. Through the fog clouding his mind, he was dimly aware that Varian was in danger. Why? Riki was with him, wasn’t he? He’d sent the bearcat with him to protect him. But if the invaders got to the Tree, which he was sure they must have by now, then Riki might not be able to fend them all off. Especially—

Oh, crap.

His sister was here.

She’d kicked him off the cliff. She was with the Sundrop. More than likely, Varian would garner no sympathy from her.

So it was one bearcat, one raccoon, and one child versus seven enemies. They had to hurry, before anything bad happened.

If his nephew so much as had a single bruise when Hector got to him…

He’d what? He was concussed, bloodied, and aching. If he tried to face Adira like this, she’d destroy him. He’d fought multiple opponents in instances when he’d been in much worse condition, but this was _Adira_. It took everything he had to best her on a good day. Plus there were the others.

He’d deal with that if the situation arose. Right now his priority had to be finding Varian and getting him to safety before the others discovered he was here.

Kubwa bore him up the path leading to the Tree. As they stepped through the arch, Artemis immediately started circling up toward the higher paths to search. Hector slipped off Kubwa’s back and steadied himself against his side. He needed to be prepared, and that meant establishing just how badly he was hurt. All his fingers seemed to work; his arms moved okay, if a bit stiffly; his left leg ached, probably having been twisted when he fell. The only real damage appeared to be his concussion.

Despite the fuzziness in his mind, he could tell the Tree was too quiet. He didn’t like it. Leaning against Kubwa, he examined the footprints in the soft grass. They had definitely come this way, and Adira had apparently taken time to explain the history of the Tree to them, judging my the now-uncovered mural of Zhan Tiri on the wall. He couldn’t have been out for more than five minutes, so if they had stopped here, he was probably right behind them.

Kiki suddenly screeched and darted over to a bundle of gray fur halfway hidden by the dense foliage. He pawed at it anxiously until Hector stumbled over.

Riki.

He knelt to examine him. He was awake but dazed, his head leaned up against the base of a tree, skid marks in the grass where he had been thrown. A bandage was wrapped around his left foreleg, blood seeping through it.

Adira. His sister didn’t have it in her to leave an injured animal untreated. Commit treason? Sure. But never let an animal bleed out. He stroked Riki’s head. The bearcat attempted to get to his feet, but his wounded leg kept him down.

“Stay here, ‘kay?” Hector rasped, his scratchy throat stinging. “We’ll take care of this.” He stood and kept moving, his rage burning a hole in his chest. Whoever had hurt his friend was going to get it.

How had his defense fallen so completely? Riki was injured, he was injured, Varian had no idea his betrayers were here, and his sister had led an invasion force into his home. In all his years of guarding the Tree, never had he failed so spectacularly.

The pit dropped away before him. He moved to go around it. But his feet had other ideas, carrying him to the edge, where the path stretched out below him. He shook his head and tried to turn away, but the force of the Heart’s call froze him to the spot. It whispered, beckoned, invited. Slowly, he started down the path.

Kubwa shook his head and grumbled as he backed away. Kiki hissed but followed on Hector’s heels. At the bottom of the path, the Heart glowed distant and dim, the spear glowing gently. Hector stepped forward and placed his hand against the smooth, polished wood.

It would be so easy to take it, to allow the remnants of Zhan Tiri’s power to destroy the foolish princess and her followers. All he had to do was pull the spear out, and his problems would be solved. No more Sundrop, no more handmaid, no more Adira. No one would hurt his nephew. No one would disturb the Moonstone.

With a hiss of shock, he drew back, but his hand lingered over the shaft. What was he thinking? That Heart had the power to destroy everyone, not just the princess. He would be putting everyone at risk, not just his enemies.

He would be putting _Varian_ at risk.

But he had no way of defending his nephew currently. The invaders were between them, and Hector was having trouble just keeping his eyes open. This could be the only way to stop them. His hand curled around the spear again, the wooden shaft slipping into his hand as if it were made for him, as if he were meant to wield it and release the vengeance of Zhan Tiri against those who would disturb the Tree.

Beside him, Kiki snarled. He blinked and stepped back again. Taking the spear could kill them all, including Varian. It wasn’t worth it. He could fight them on his own.

… Right?

And if he couldn’t? If Varian was hurt or killed because he couldn’t fight Adira and her little entourage?

His fingers danced over the wood, the dark oak shining blue in the dim light, the Heart’s call still ringing in his blurred mind.

_Take it._

_Protect him._

_Protect the stone._

_KILL THEM!_

He groaned and put his head in his hands, releasing the spear for the first time. The world swam around him, leaving his feet unsteady. He looked back up at the blue glow.

_Take it._

_T A K E I T._

“Forgive me,” he rasped. “I… Varian, forgive me. I’ll find you, I promise.” He stepped back from the Heart, trying to block out its enraged screeching in his mind, and limped back up the path, leaning heavily on Kiki. Sweat dripped from his braids, stinging the wound in his head. With a deep shudder, he dropped to his knees at the top of the pit. His hands tore into the grass, still craving for the feel of the spear to satisfy their emptiness.

Kiki helped him to his feet, and they kept moving, putting the pit and its evils behind them.

O‴O‴O‴

Not ten minutes later, a cold wave of soul-sucking energy drove him to his knees. His already strained lungs struggled to pull in air. Kiki and Kubwa were fighting, too. He leaned against the wall and focused on one breath at a time. What the dickens was that?

And was it affecting Varian?

Had _they_ caused it?

As suddenly as it came, it went. He stumbled up and looked around. The others appeared to be no worse for wear.

It was all the more urgent that he find his nephew. If they had some sort of weapon that could inflict that kind of damage at a distance, it had to be worse up close. Was that part of the Sundrop’s power?

A sharp scream echoed faintly through the Tree. Hector hated that he recognized the sound of his nephew’s screaming. He hated even more that _his nephew was screaming!_ Pushing himself to run faster, he readied himself for whatever he might find next. If Varian was hurt…

He gritted his teeth. Threatening vengeance was useless until he had whoever hurt Varian and Riki in his sights. He followed the noise up through the bowels of the Tree, following the footsteps.

Partway up, he came across a stunned Ruddiger. The raccoon was weaving around as if drunk. When he saw Hector, he screeched unhappily and pawed at his leg. Hector knelt to pick him up, almost falling over in the process. Ruddiger waved his paw anxiously in the direction the footsteps went.

“Yeah, I know. Come on.” He kept moving, getting madder and madder with every step. There was no denying it now: Varian was in grave danger.

O‴O‴O‴

Artemis swooped down and flew in front of Hector’s face to get his attention. Then she circled the base of one of the thick columns leading up to the higher levels of the Tree. The footsteps led up to the stairs.

“They’re up there?”

Artemis nodded as she settled on Kiki’s back, closing her eyes and tilting her head to mime sleeping. Hector scoffed. Their nerve! To hurt Riki and Ruddiger and _Varian_ and to set up camp like he wouldn’t come find them! Had they counted him out so easily when he fell?

They wouldn’t live to regret that mistake.

He started up the steps, but a stab of pain flared up his leg. He hissed and stepped back, eyeing the path up skeptically. How was he to climb an open staircase with a concussion and a bad leg?

Off to his right was another pathway, this one leading up to another platform near the first. The sloping road would be easier on his weary body, and he could make the jump to the first platform. Plus, it would give them the element of surprise. He and his companions started climbing.

Once at the top, they looked out over the campsite. Eight humans, two horses, an owl, and… was that a chameleon? The princess lay near a brunet that must have been the fake Flynn Rider Varian told him of. The short-haired woman, Cassandra, sat nearby on watch. There were also a thug, a bald man with questionable choices in jewelry—seriously, a gold earring? Either he was begging to get robbed or had robbed someone to get it—and a wrinkled lump of flesh that looked like someone’s great-great-great-grandfather.

Then there was Adira.

Varian lay tied up next to her, the rope around Adira’s wrist.

Ruddiger squeaked and attempted to leap out of Hector’s arms and get to his boy. Hector tightened his hold and placed his hand over the creature’s mouth.

“Careful,” he hissed. “I want him back, too.”

He examined the terrain. A few trees grew on the opposing platform. If he could jump to one of them, he could slide down without the guard knowing. And what then? He had no way of fighting all of them plus Adira. Once past Cassandra, if he tried to take Varian, Adira would know, and she would wake the others.

There had to be a way to snatch Varian and get back before the others rallied. He ran over scenario after scenario in his mind. Jump down, cut the rope, grab Varian, jump back up. On his leg? Not likely. Slide down, kill Adira—yeah, that wasn’t happening either. Sneak over, kill the guard, pick off the others one by one. Yeah, no way. His sister could practically smell blood in her sleep. If she was even truly asleep, that was. Cut one of the trees down to separate Adira and Varian from the others? No, they were too close.

Every plan he made ended the same way: disaster. Was there truly no way to rescue Varian in his condition? Riki had had to stay below, Kubwa couldn’t make the jump, so it would be him and Kiki and Ruddiger and Artemis against their entire group.

He groaned and leaned his head against a rock. With the waves of dizziness still flooding his mind, it’d be a miracle if he even managed to make the jump without falling to the ground below. There was no help for it now. He would have to wait, at least for a few more hours.

O‴O‴O‴

It was a small mercy that Varian didn’t get a nightmare. Keeping his composure around these people was hard enough. Although he wished his current circumstances would have been a nightmare. That would have been preferable to the harsh reality he awoke to.

Footsteps crossed near his head. He tensed, expecting the toe of a boot in his ribs. That was always the guards’ preferred method of waking him up.

It never came. Instead, he heard a yelp and a thud. His eyes shot open, and he saw Cassandra sitting on the ground, looking up at Adira angrily. The warrior smirked and knelt next to Varian.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

He pushed himself up and refused to meet her eyes. She sighed and stood. “Lance is making breakfast. Here, chew this.” She handed him some sort of root. He eyed it skeptically. “Helps with morning breath.”

He placed it in his mouth and chewed. It had a sort of minty flavor, almost. Scrambling to his feet, he followed her over to the others. The princess tensed as he came over, and Fitzherbert wrapped an arm around her as if the child trussed up like a steer on branding day could hurt her. The others, thankfully, looked indifferent. Lance handed him a plate of bacon and eggs.

“Morning,” he greeted cheerfully. Varian said silent thanks for both the food and that at least one of the princess’s friends wasn’t a complete jerk. Maybe this man could be an ally against Cassandra.

Speak of the devil… The woman had picked herself up off the ground—where Adira had tossed her, if he read the scene correctly—and joined them. “We need to hurry up,” she growled. “We’ve been here too long already. If Hector’s following us, he’s probably not far behind.”

“Didn’t Adira toss him off a cliff?” Fitzherbert questioned. Varian tried to hide the spike of fear that sent through his heart. Adira had hurt Hector? Was he alive? Had he survived the fall?

“It’ll take more than that to stop him,” Adira answered. “My brother’s survived things that would kill any one of you in a heartbeat. He may be injured, but he’s certainly not dead.”

Cassandra looked down at Varian, where Adira was untying his wrists. “What are you doing?”

“Untying him,” she answered bluntly, not looking at the bodyguard. “What does it look like?”

“I can see that,” she fumed.

“Good. Then you’ll also notice we’re having breakfast. The princess established last night that we could untie him to eat. I’d suggest you get some breakfast and quit complaining, since you’re in such a hurry.”

Cassandra growled. Varian kept his head down to hide his smile.

“I don’t like this,” she declared. “He’s too comfortable around you. Instead of treating him like a prisoner, you’re treating him like—”

“Like family?” Adira smiled up at her. “Yes, I am. Besides, what’s he going to do? Run away? Stab us with one of the knives you confiscated?”

“Speaking of things you confiscated from him, did anybody else notice he had a set of lock picks?” Fitzherbert noted.

“Of course _you’d_ notice that.” Cassandra took the plate Lance offered and sat down. “Is that how you broke out of prison?” she demanded of her prisoner.

He ignored her.

“I asked you a question,” she growled more fiercely. He gave her a sardonic look and pointedly kept eating. Perhaps aggravating her was not the best idea he had ever had, but he couldn’t muster up the mental energy to bring himself into a conversation with her. Not after last night. Plus, Adira was right beside him.

It was with surprise that he realized he was starting to rely on her for protection. _Stupid. Don’t let your guard down. She’s with them._

Fortunately, for the time being, Cassandra seemed content to leave him alone and take his silence in stride. Possibly she just didn’t want to incur Adira’s wrath again.

All too soon, it was time to pack up and leave. Adira placed the rope around his wrists, keeping it loose. He noted with interest that she kept it slack enough for him to slip his hands out of if he tried. Best not to, though. Cassandra would have a fit, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with that. He was physically tired, mentally tired, and emotionally tired. All he wanted to do was curl up and pretend none of this was happening. He wanted to wake up in his bed, with the sound of Hector’s horrendous snoring coming from the other room.

Cassandra stood and put her hands on her hips. “Let’s go. The sooner we get to the Dark Kingdom and get the Moonstone, the sooner we get back home and get this little psychopath locked up.”

He couldn’t fight the angry retort. “Do what you want. I’ll die before I go back to jail.”

She drew her sword. “Funny enough, I can arrange that!”

“Cassandra!” The princess jumped between them.

“What? He’s an escaped convict resisting arrest! I can end him right now and save us the trouble.” She lowered her blade but continued to shoot daggers with her eyes. “Listen, Raps, we need to deal with him before he kills us all, and I don’t trust Adira not to let him!”

“We are not killing him. And Adira’s helping us! She said she’d get us to the Dark Kingdom.”

“And after that? What’s to stop them from killing us once Adira gets what she wants?”

“A knight’s honor,” Adira answered. “Despite your obvious antagonism and your inability to treat my nephew like a human being rather than an animal, I agreed to get the princess, and by extension, the rest of you, to the Dark Kingdom. What happens to you after that is none of my business, but I sincerely hope you make it home to your families. And did a single one of you bother to ask why Varian might be more willing to die than being locked up?”

“Uh, because criminals don’t exactly like to face the consequences of their actions,” the bodyguard growled.

“But to prefer death?”

Varian winced. She wasn’t going to tell them, was she? Part of him wanted them to know what they had done to him. The other part of him feared they wouldn’t care. They hadn’t cared about anything else he went through. Besides, he didn’t like the thought of explaining his past to anyone other than Hector.

“I admit, I didn’t expect Coronan guards to have the same standards that soldiers from my kingdom did,” Adira continued, fuming. “But I would have at least expected them to have enough decency not to hurt a child. But I suppose if Short Hair here is any indication of the rest of her type, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What are you saying?” Fitzherbert demanded.

It was Lance who answered. “She’s saying they abused him,” he spoke quietly, as if the situation called for a gravity the others did not seem to recognize. “Am I right?”

They looked to Varian. He nodded slowly, refusing to meet their eyes.

“But… No, my dad promised to help you.” Rapunzel shook her head as if that could magically erase the scars that littered his face and neck.

He gave her a scornful glare. “And how good is your family at keeping promises?” Her flinch brought him small vindication. “No, princess, he made my life a living nightmare. Six months. Without trial. Every day, wondering if that was the day he’d finally have mercy and let me die. So yeah, I’d rather die out here than go back, ‘cause at least out here I can have the dignity of facing my death standing on my own feet instead of living under the heel of a tyrant for the rest of my miserable life!”

He held his head up and met their stares of shock and horror. A tremble ran through his bones. _No, not here, not now. You will_ not _let them see you shaking._ Had he really just said all of that? To _them_? His anger warred with his fear. They had him at their mercy, which so far had proven to be quite lax. They could punish him for speaking out. Cassandra could punish him.

“Did they do _that?_ ” Lance asked gently, motioning to Varian’s unseeing eye.

He nodded. “About three months after my arrest.”

The others shared a glance for a moment. Finally, Cassandra crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you.”

“Cass,” the thug with the hook—if Varian had heard correctly, his name was Hookfoot—spoke up.

“No. Coronan guards are honorable. I’d know. They wouldn’t have done something like that.”

Varian glared and pointed to the side of his face, where she had struck him yesterday. “Wouldn’t they?” _Shut up shut up shut up do you want her to hurt you again?_

“You bit me!”

“I was panicking!”

“This is ridiculous,” she snapped. “When we get back, we can ask the king what happened. My guess is the kid broke out and ran across some thugs or something.” She ignored Hookfoot’s exclamation of protest at the T-word. “I’m more inclined to believe King Frederic than the kid who committed treason, kidnapping, and attempted murder. Now can we _please_ get out of here while we still have the chance?” She turned and stalked off.

The others looked at each other and followed. The princess gave Varian a look that, if it had come from anyone but her, he might have called regretful.

His steps dragged as they started walking, causing him to lag a few steps behind his guard. No, Cassandra was a guard. Adira wasn’t like her. The warrior turned and gave him a quizzical look. “Varian, come on. We need to go.”

He looked around at the Tree that had been his home for almost two months now. Why was this happening? Just when he had found a place where he could be safe, a family who loved him, suddenly it was all snatched away from him again. The princess came in like a storm and blew him off his feet, not even realizing how long it had taken him to stand in the first place.

Would he ever be able to return? Would Hector come back to Corona for him? Or would he save him before they got there? Would he ever sit and drink hot cocoa with his uncle and the animals again? Would he ever fully unlock the secrets of the scroll room?

“Varian,” Adira interrupted his thoughts. She knelt down to be on eye level with him. “I know you’re scared, but I won’t let anyone hurt you. I need you to trust me. I’m going to protect you. But right now, Hector is on his way. We need to leave before he gets here.”

Varian closed his eyes and reluctantly nodded. He still didn’t dare voice to her or the others that he knew Hector. They’d think Adira was in league with him and let Cassandra guard him again. He followed on Adira’s heels like an obedient dog, feeling Cassandra’s glare on the top of his bowed head.

Lance dropped back to walk with them. Adira raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “Hey. So, that was a bit awkward.”

He glanced up at the man, not even caring enough to ask him to leave.

“Look, sorry about Cass. She’s a bit intense, but she means well. Threatens me all the time. You just have to get used to her.”

“I spent six months ‘getting used’ to people like her. I don’t want to get used to her. I don’t want anything to do with her.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, I wanted to ask. I got their side of the story, but what about yours?”

He tilted his head. This one was different. If Varian played his cards right… “What do you want to know?”

Before Lance answered, a scraping noise caught the boy’s attention. He kept his head low but glanced off to the side.

A pair of yellow eyes looked back at him.

Hector had found him.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector was tired of waiting. Hours of watching for an opportunity left him with nothing but a headache and no good options. He wanted to sleep, but he knew better than to do so with a concussion. So he waited and watched. And waited some more. And kept watching.

It galled him to have to sit and do nothing. When the faint gray of morning peeked through the Tree, the camp below started to wake. Adira was the first to wake, stretching and starting to walk around and observe the edge of the camp. The handmaid, seeing her move, stalked over to Varian. Hector nearly threw himself from his perch to fight her as he saw her draw back a leg to kick the sleeping boy.

Adira got there before he could move. She grabbed the woman’s leg mid-air and threw her to the ground.

Hector watched in curiosity. Adira was protecting Varian? But she was the one holding him prisoner! Then again, she’d never been cruel, so maybe she just didn’t want the handmaid abusing the child. All that mattered right now was that she had chosen to align herself with the princess and her entourage.

In pride, he listened to Varian defend himself mere moments later. It clearly pained the boy to talk about his abuse to his uncaring captors, but he held his head up and his shoulders back. For someone so small, he had the courage of men five times his size.

They started to walk towards the path leading to the outside, and Hector prepared himself to jump. He had no choice now; taking them head-on was his only option. It would probably get him killed, but if it saved his kid…

Varian and Adira had dropped to the back of the group. The bald man walked with them. An idea sprang to the forefront of the warrior’s mind. It was a long shot, but it just might work. Quickly, he gave a series of motions to the animals that left Kiki nodding and Ruddiger scratching his head in confusion. Hector rolled his eyes and whispered the plan to the raccoon. Then he slipped his hand into one of the bags on Kubwa’s saddle and grinned as he found what he was looking for.

Time to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ran long, so I split it in half. The next part should be up in a day or so once I do some revising!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	17. Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue and what comes after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this fabulous fanart by @artist.geek555 on Instagram! One of my favorite scenes to write.  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CItRzk1lavG/
> 
> And here's the second part to the last chapter! Really glad I decided to delay this one, since it needed an insane amount of revising. I've read over it a thousand times, and I'm convinced there's something I'm missing, but we'll find out!

Hector leaped from his perch to one of the trees on the platform below, Kiki and Ruddiger right behind him. As they dropped mostly noiselessly to the ground, the warrior intentionally slid his foot a bit to catch Varian’s attention. Fortunately, Adira didn’t notice, but his nephew turned to look. His eyes widened in surprise, but he wisely kept his head low so the others didn’t notice. _That’s my boy._ Hector motioned for him to drop back about three steps.

Varian lagged behind the others, dragging his feet as if reluctant to go with them. No surprise there. Adira and the man turned to look at him.

Then Hector threw his distraction. The small bag landed in the dirt just in front of Adira. Her head whipped around to see what it was.

And Hector made his move.

Leaping from his hiding place, he unsheathed his sword. He crossed behind Adira, slicing the lead rope and scooping up Varian in a single movement. His sister’s blade swung around, slicing off the end of one of his braids and whistling dangerously close to the side of his face. Still carried by his forward momentum, he ducked the sword and rolled, letting his body take the brunt of the impact as he sheltered Varian. He flipped up and slid to a stop a few feet away from them, his nephew safely in his hold. Without hesitating, he set Varian on his feet and spun him behind him, placing himself in between the boy and his captors, sword at the ready.

His leg screamed in pain at the exertion. His head ached like it had been stepped on by Kubwa. The dust that had been flung in the air infiltrated his lungs. Setting his jaw, he opted to ignore his discomfort. It was worth it. Every ache and pain was worth it now that he could feel the shaking child huddled close behind him, hiding halfway under his cloak and clinging to him. Varian was scared but alive. His ragged breathing was music to Hector’s ears.

The reaction from the others was immediate and explosive. Someone screamed. It might have been the princess or the old man. It was hard to tell. As one, they turned to see what had happened, drawing their weapons. The princess herself was armed with a frying pan and looked ready to use it, so she was more than likely not the screamer.

“Varian!” she cried in shock.

Adira leveled her blade at her brother’s chest, though she was wise enough not to attempt to strike. “Let him go, Hector!” she snarled.

He couldn’t help his eye roll. “Hey, sis? He’s holding _me_.” He could see her analyzing the situation, attempting to find a way to free Varian, and he could see the exact moment his words hit home.

The princess either didn’t get it or didn’t care. “Varian, get away from him! He’s dangerous!”

Kiki had circled the group and come up behind Hector, ready to fight by his humans. Ruddiger, who had been sitting on his back, darted over and slipped up onto Varian’s shoulders as the boy twisted his wrists out of the binding. “You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, looking slightly woozy.

Hector put a hand to his head, where the blood had dried and knotted his hair. He’d forgotten. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

The bald man’s mouth dropped open as he started putting the pieces together. “Wait a minute! Do you two know each other?”

“Wow. Figure that out all by yourself, didja?” He glanced back at his nephew and hissed as he saw the dark mark that had started to form on one side of his face. He recognized it.

A handprint.

“Who hit you?” he growled, low and deadly.

“’M fine,” Varian dodged the question.

“Varian. Who. Hit. You.”

The boy shuddered and pressed his face against Hector’s side. “Cassandra.”

Hector’s cold glare fell on the handmaid. He motioned for Varian to head for the stairs. “Get out of here. I’ll take care of her.”

“You broke Varian out of prison, didn’t you?” Adira asked.

“Well, one of us had to, and it clearly wasn’t going to be you.”

She picked up the bag Hector threw at her and smirked as she saw the contents: twenty gold coins. “So you finally admit it, brother.”

He glared back at her. “Doesn’t matter. I told you. Sundrop or no, I’d end you.”

“Hector, if you’d just listen—”

“No. How dare you side with them! After what they did to our nephew! After what they did to our brother!” He put a reign on his temper. Losing control would only serve to lose him everything else.

“Where is Quirin? Varian wouldn’t tell me.”

Then they hadn’t explained? His lips tightened in a thin line. “Quirin is dead, sister” he answered slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. Her gasp of horror stabbed him through the heart and nearly made him break his resolve right there. “I read the final rites of the Brotherhood for him.”

She shook her head in shock. “How?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “What happened?”

“It was an accident,” Varian answered, stepping out from behind Hector slightly. The warrior put a hand out to keep him back. Why had he not left as ordered? “He saved me. I made a mistake, and he saved my life. I—I tried to help—I wanted to save him—” His voice broke. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—” He leaned into Hector’s side.

“Your perfect little Sundrop abandoned him and Varian,” Hector hissed. “She left Quirin to die and Varian to suffer unjustly. And she’ll die for that. Varian, go. I’ll deal with this.”

Varian grabbed Hector’s arm. “Wait! You’re not going to kill them, are you?”

Hector blinked. “That’s kinda the plan, yeah.” Between him, Artemis, and Kiki, they could take down at least the Sundrop, the handmaid, and the owl. They’d probably die by Adira’s hand, but Kubwa could get Varian to safety.

“No!” His nephew’s eyes widened. “P-please don’t!”

“Why do you care? After everything they put you through?” Sometimes he really didn’t understand this kid.

Varian shook his head. “J-just ple-please don’t kill them!”

Hector shook his head and sighed, turning back to their opponents. “One last chance. For Varian’s sake, I won’t kill you if you leave now and never return.”

“We can’t do that, Hector,” Adira answered. “The Sundrop and Moonstone _must_ be reunited.”

In years past, when he had thought of Adira, there had always been a bitterness at her betrayal that allowed him to consider killing her. Now that she was here, now that she had found her Sundrop and was prepared to finish her treasonous task, his hand hesitated. Why? Because it was different now that she was looking him in the eye? Because this was the moment of truth, when he would raise his sword, no holds barred, and either kill her or die by her hand?

Because family seemed to be worth more in the last six months?

His voice shook slightly as he responded, “Then I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

He lifted his sword and attacked.

O‴O‴O‴

Time seemed to slow for Hector whenever he fought. That was part of why he was the fastest of his siblings. He could see every movement, strategize every strike while his opponent was still reeling from his last blow. His natural speed combined with his rapid thoughts to make him little more than a blur in their eyes. It was what allowed him to see the princess’s boyfriend rushing to protect her, Kiki charging in from his right side, Artemis swooping low to tackle the owl midair.

Out of all of his enemies in the past, however, Adira was one of the few who could actually stand up to his barrage. She didn’t match him in speed, but she equaled him in skill. And she knew how he fought.

Hector’s first strike went straight for the princess. Take out the Sundrop, half the battle was over. He jumped up and brought his sword in an arc toward her. Fear danced in her green eyes as he saw his own reflection bearing down to end her. But his reflection was transferred from her eyes to Adira’s black blade as she threw herself in between them. Hector used the force of their blades colliding to flip over her and land behind the princess, his leg giving a twinge of pain that he ignored. His sword swung around—backstabbing wasn’t honorable, but this was war—and clashed against a second blade.

Cassandra.

Fury filled his veins, burning hot at first but cooling to that frigid ice-water that fueled him while still allowing him to retain control. Adira thought of him as sadistic. He would never agree with her—sadism was what led people like the Coronans to burn a child—but he could see how she got that impression. His movements were lightning, sporadic, unpredictable, and he was ruthless when it came to dealing with opponents. His cold veneer mingled with his fierce attacks, leading one to believe he enjoyed the sight and smell of blood on his weapon, of bodies slain by his hand.

He didn’t. He enjoyed a fight, yes, but never the act of killing.

But this was Cassandra. This was the woman who left hand-shaped bruises across his nephew’s face. This was the woman who hadn’t hesitated to try to kick a bound child while he was down and defenseless.

If he took satisfaction in killing her, who could blame him?

He kicked her in the stomach, knocking her back into the princess and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The bearcat leaped at them but was intercepted by Adira. Hector twisted to meet an attack from the brunet—what had Varian called him? Fitzherbert? Knocking him aside like a kitten—not that Hector would ever hurt a kitten—he turned his attention back to the two he had to kill.

The others had started to rally, finally. If Hector had had more backup, they’d’ve been dead already. The thug with the hook helped Fitzherbert up, while the old man appeared to have fallen asleep. Artemis knocked the owl out and flew at the horses. The bald man rushed forward, and Hector dropped and spun, swiping the man’s legs out from under him. Regaining his footing, the warrior rushed the girls.

Cassandra jumped up and charged to meet his attack. Their swords met in a shower of sparks, glimmering brightly against the dark gray of the dimly lit Tree. Hector drove a kick at her knee, forcing her to limp back. The princess jumped aside as they fought, Cassandra being forced further and further back.

He had to give credit where it was due; she wasn’t horrible. He paced his blows, holding back to give her time to adjust, knowing he could end her with one strike should he choose. He held back, waiting, waiting… _there!_

The princess had come up behind him. He saw from the corner of his eye the way she held her hair, preparing to use it as a whip. A single well-placed strike could end the handmaid. Then a spin back against the princess could put her out of his way for good.

He planned the exact motion. Both of the women telegraphed their moves too obviously, and it would be a simple matter of executing his plan once he knew exactly what they would try.

His plan changed when he sensed Adira’s sword aimed at his back. He twisted around to meet her attack when a small blur crossed his vision.

“NOOOO!”

The scream was familiar, heartbreakingly so. Varian had thrown himself between Hector and Adira, holding out a hand to stop her attack. The lady warrior’s expression was a cross of horror and fear as her blade arced toward the boy

Hector moved on instinct, sheathing his sword as he spun and allowing his momentum to carry him into Varian. He bodyslammed him, knocking him roughly to the side. Adira’s weapon raked across the side of Hector’s arm, sending pain like fire into it. The child and the knight hit the ground and rolled, Hector flipping to land in a crouch above his nephew.

Of all the reactions he expected, the worst one was the unfortunate reality. Varian shrank into a ball, wrapping his arms around his head and gasping for breath. Hector hissed and put a hand on his arm. “Varian? You okay?”

Varian screamed and curled up further. “NO DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Adira thankfully motioned for the others to stay back. Cassandra still looked ready to attack, but she obeyed. They all froze, staring at the boy in shock. Kiki and Artemis gathered by their humans. Hector hovered over his nephew anxiously. “Varian, hey, talk to me. You okay?”

Tears streamed down his nephew’s dirt-streaked face. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t hurt me!”

Hector’s heart shattered. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Not again. He had done what he did to protect him, but Varian didn’t see that. “It’s okay, kiddo, I’m here. You’re gonna be fine, ‘kay?”

Varian’s broken sobs slowed, but his body shook like a leaf. The princess started forward, her chameleon on her shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Get back!” Hector snarled. These people had no business getting anywhere near his nephew. “Stay away from him!”

Ruddiger scampered over to his boy and placed a paw on his face. Varian gasped and drew back. Hector shook his head to warn him off.

“Hector,” Adira spoke softly. “Is he going to be okay?”

He checked over Varian’s slim frame. He appeared uninjured, and his glazed eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to force himself to come to his bearings.

Why had Varian not done what Hector asked? Why had he stayed? _Was he okay?_

Varian had been making progress with his recovery. He still regressed every once in a while, but touch very seldom affected him the way it had for the first several months. This attack was more extreme than he had expected. Why? What had happened?

The handprint on Varian’s face stood out in his vision. Of course. Cassandra.

She had hurt Varian. She had caused him to panic. She had reminded him of his fear, his pain, his dark months of being unable to be touched and held and comforted.

And she would pay for it.

“Varian,” he whispered. “If you can hear me, I need you to nod.” He sighed with relief as his kid responded affirmatively. He wasn’t too far gone in his attack, then. “Good. I need you to go with Kiki. Find Riki and Kubwa and get out of here. They’ll protect you.” Varian nodded again, his tears starting to slow.

Hector flicked his wrist and summoned his blade. He nodded to Artemis, who dived at Adira. As the warrior was distracted, Hector leaped over Varian’s prone form and charged Cassandra.

The princess ran forward, but Hector was quicker. Cassandra threw her sword up in time to block his, but the force of the blow sent her stumbling and tripping over her feet. He didn’t slow, sending strike after strike at her before she could recover or the others could come to her defense.

She shrieked in pain as he bore down on her arm with the flat of his blade. The bone snapped with a sickening _crack._ Unyielding, Hector spun and kicked her in the side, causing her to fall. She clutched at her arm and attempted to scramble to her feet, her sword laying uselessly beside her.

Hector prepared to attack again but found his wrist locked in place with a golden rope. He glanced back briefly to see the princess glaring at him as she restricted his movements with her hair. The men had rushed forward as well. He smirked and yanked his wrist forward, causing her to lose her balance and fall into the others, knocking them all to the ground. Then he kicked Cassandra in the stomach.

She flew backward, skidding across the ground until she came to the edge of the platform. Her strangled scream was lost to the abyss below as she fell off the edge.

“Cassandra!” The princess rushed forward as Hector dodged to the side. Varian had climbed up on Kiki’s back, but upon seeing Cassandra fall, he slipped off and darted forward. Hector blocked his path, careful not to touch him.

“What are you doing? We have to go!”

“B-but she-she’ll die!” he exclaimed. He looked over to the princess who had thrown her hair down to try to catch her friend. From the look on her face, she had failed.

Hector didn’t care.

Adira swiped at Artemis, knocking the bird out of the air. The hawk tumbled to the ground at Hector’s feet, dazed but unwounded. He scooped her up and motioned for Varian to get on Kiki’s back for the umpteenth time. As his sister charged at him with a roar of rage, he dove to the side and leaped up, kicking her in the back with his good leg. She kept her footing and spun to face him again. Considering that she was actually using her sword instead of keeping her hands behind her back and waiting for him to make the first move, he must have ticked her off. Two of the men ran forward, Fitzherbert staying behind to comfort his girlfriend.

Before Hector could meet the attack, the ground started shaking. They braked to a stop and looked around questioningly. The rumbling grew until it resembled a low thunder. The tremors rattled Hector’s bones. He looked back to Varian, who sat on Kiki’s back. The boy, raccoon, and bearcat stared back, uncertain.

Oh.

_You’ve got to be kidding._

Hector groaned. There was no way the handmaid should have survived that fall! But if she had…

A green glow spread up the walls, creeping closer and closer. Before the stunned group could react, a tangled mass of living vines climbed its way to the top of the Tree, stopping across from them. In the harsh light emanating from the plants, Hector could see a pale, raven-haired girl suspended from the vines, a blue spear clenched in her hand.

_Crap._

O‴O‴O‴

A vine slammed into the floor, blocking Varian and Kiki from the exit. They spun back around to face the horror that had emerged from the depths, wrapped in glowing vines.

_Crap crap crap crap crap._

Cassandra’s eyes shot open, glowing a ghastly white-green. Was she possessed? “You’ll pay for your insolence!” she screeched, pointing to Hector with the spear. “You’ll die, and the little brat will get thrown back in a cell where he belongs! None can defy the power of Zhan Tiri!”

“Cassandra?” the princess gasped. “Cass, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Cassandra turned her gaze on her friend. “You did this! I warned you, _your highness_ , but you never listen! You’ll pay as well!” The vines shot around the room, stabbing at enemies and friends alike. The princess tried to use her hair to block the vines but was knocked off her feet.

Hector snarled and charged her, leaping from vine to vine, never standing still long enough for her to hit him. He dodged and twisted in a mesmerizing display, slicing at anything that came close, a blur of black and gray against the poison green. Green, like chemicals, like acid—

 _No! Get it together!_ Varian closed his eyes and clung to Kiki, who darted around to avoid being hit. Ruddiger squeaked and clung to Varian’s chest. He tried not to flinch at the contact. He’d already panicked when Hector had barreled into him; he didn’t need to freak out over his best friend, too.

It pained him to think of that moment. He had been doing so well, he had been truly _proud_ of himself for once, but one meeting with Cassandra left him shaking and crying like a child—like a victim—at a touch from someone he trusted and loved. He’d fought to gain a victory over his conditioning, but he was reduced to his old self in one day. And he hated that. Hated his weakness. Hated his inability to hold on to the progress he had made. Hated that his recovery was taking SO! BLASTED! LONG!

Recovery wasn’t an easy road, Hector reminded him all the time. It was okay if he slipped and fell, as long as he kept getting back up. And he’d tried. Oh, how he’d tried! There were still so many days he couldn’t fight back a cry of fear when Hector surprised him with a hand on his arm, when he was reduced to a sobbing mess in a corner over a panic attack for no good reason, when he ran in fear away from the safety of the walls he knew because he felt closed in. And Hector had been patient every step of the way. Never perfect, but always patient. He stepped back when Varian was afraid, he sat and talked to him during his attacks, he followed him when he ran to make sure he was safe. And always, always, always, Varian ended up in the safety of his uncle’s arms, often seeking him out just to have him put an arm around him, sometimes crying against his leather armor, never feeling trapped or constricted.

But this? Hector had been protecting him. Varian hadn’t been thinking; he’d seen Adira coming at Hector from behind and jumped in the way, terrified she might actually hurt him. And Hector had put himself at risk, knocking Varian away from the blade. He had been safe, protected, and yet he had screamed in fright when he felt his uncle’s gentle hand on his arm. He’d pleaded with the man not to hurt him, despite knowing it was _Hector,_ that he would never do anything to harm him. His attack hadn’t lasted as long as normal, as he recognized Hector’s rough voice and used it as a grounding point, but his mind was still clouded and his nerves were still on end as he obeyed the order to get on the bearcat and leave.

But when Hector attacked Cassandra, he hesitated. He ran back, unsure why. He hated her! Why did he turn back? Why did he ask Hector to spare her and the others?

He was paying for it now. Their exit was blocked, Cassandra had awakened the Heart, and he was weaponless and powerless.

A vine shot towards them. Kiki jumped over it, nearly throwing the boy from his back. Varian clung tighter and tried to control his shaking form. Hector always told him it was okay to ride out an attack until it was over and not try to force himself to deal with it or the fallout too quickly, but he didn’t have that luxury here. Not when he was inches away from death.

Kiki ran for the edge of the platform away from Cassandra, where Kubwa waited anxiously on a higher ledge. They were going to jump. The bearcat charged toward a tree to climb to safety, but another vine cut them off and swept Kiki off his feet. They hit the ground and rolled, Varian instinctively curling up as he fell and wrapping his arms around himself protectively. He scrambled back against a rock and looked around frantically.

Everyone was screaming; green lit up the dark room and left streaks across his vision; someone was flung through the air and snatched up again before hitting the ground. Varian pressed his hands to his ears and tried to block out the noise, there was too much noise, it hurt _so bad_ , _why were they yelling it was all TOO MUCH—_

A howl of pain broke through his hazy mind. He whipped his head up to see Hector struggling in the grasp of one of the vines. It curled around him, tightening, crushing his ribs, strangling him.

_A metal machine, a clawed hand, crushing, clenching, a heart as impervious to the cries of pain as the machine’s shell was to weapons—_

Varian pulled himself to his feet, stumbling forward. “No, Uncle Hector! Hang on!” He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t have the answer, he didn’t have black rocks to tear down Cassandra’s attack vessel, he had _nothing!_ Not even a knife or sword or—

Spear!

His eyes fell on the blue glow sticking into the ground near Hector. He’d managed to knock it out of Cassandra’s hands, apparently. The vine near it was dark and withered.

If he could get to the spear, stab it into the middle of the vines…

He ran forward impulsively, blinking past the tears in his eyes to see where he was going. Behind him, Ruddiger screeched in panic. A vine swooped at him, and he ducked and rolled under it, jumping to his feet and continuing on. He could hear Cassandra yelling at him. Blocking her out and spinning around a vine that stabbed into the ground where he had been standing a split second earlier, he tapped into the training he had done with Hector to keep moving. Watch the vines, watch his step, don’t get distracted by the screaming, let his muscles remember what they learned, just like the obstacle courses they worked on, only a thousand times more deadly…

The cold wave slammed into him and drove him to the ground. The air fled from his lungs. A haunting voice filled his head, chanting a verse both beautiful and deadly, like a poison flower, like a dagger, like the soft glow of a burning acid…

_…End this destiny…_

He gasped for air and shoved himself up to his knees. To his right, the princess stood facing Cassandra, her hair dark and her face streaked with tears.

_…The spirit free…_

The incantation! What was she thinking? “Princess!” he coughed out. “Princess, stop! Y-you’ll ki-kill us all!” She either didn’t hear or didn’t listen.

He had to get to the spear! No stranger to pain, Varian forced himself to his feet, swaying and nearly falling. He stumbled forward, vision growing dizzy from lack of oxygen, and collapsed against the shaft of the spear. The Tree was shaking, harder now, and rubble started to rain down on them. Dust and dirt at first, then pebbles, until large pieces of wood and stone were falling among them, either ripped from the ceiling by the vines or the force of the incantation.

“Varian!” He glanced to the side to see Adira pushing herself toward the princess. “I’ll deal with her. Get ready!”

He nodded, yanking the spear from the ground and using it as a walking stick as he weaved dizzily forward. Almost there, just a few feet closer—

The vine blindsided him, knocking him off his feet and snatching him around the waist before he could recover. It yanked him up into the air, and he nearly dropped the spear in his shock. The mountain of vines was starting to grow dark from the power of the incantation. Beside him, he could see Hector’s gray complexion as he fought against his own bindings, pain written across his features. His eyes widened in fear as he saw Varian wrapped up beside him.

The cold atmosphere warmed without warning, leaving the shivering boy gasping by the sudden change. As air filled his lungs—as best it could with the vine still cutting into his waist—he steeled himself and swung the spear. It stabbed through the vine, which writhed and twisted as it died and dropped him.

He fell down towards the mass of vines, readying the spear. Most of the mound was dead, courtesy of the princess’s dangerous risk, but many of the larger vines were untouched. His feet hit the mound where it was still green, and he plunged the weapon right into the midst of it, holding tightly to the shaft as Cassandra screamed in rage and the shifting mass shook and swayed and bucked. The force ripped the spear from his grip, and he fell, tumbling down the side of the vine cluster and hitting the ground at the bottom. Hector fell behind him, admittedly landing more gracefully than the inexperienced child.

The vines shriveled and jerked, the ground quaked and split, and Varian desperately tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him from the fall. The dirt in the air choked him. He hacked and coughed as he pulled himself away, unable to regain enough strength to climb to his feet and run.

Hector’s yellow eyes fixed on Varian, relief obvious in them. He started forward. Then an expression of horror crossed his face. He might have screamed, but it was hard to tell through the noise of the Tree breaking apart. Varian looked back to see what had frightened his uncle.

A vine, just barely clinging to life, slithered towards the boy and latched itself around his ankle. Before he could pull free, it dragged him backward along the ground. He kicked and twisted and clutched at the ground, all to no avail.

Hector lunged forward. Varian stretched out a hand toward him, a choking scream lodged in his throat. The warrior lunged across the distance, his fingers just barely brushing Varian’s before the boy was dragged over the edge of the platform, falling with the mass of vines back down towards the pit below.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector screamed. He would have thrown himself off the platform had Adira not grabbed him around the waist and hauled him backward, her arms crushing his aching body a bit too harshly. He fought against her grip, driving his elbow into her ribs to force her to drop him. She recovered quickly and knocked him off his feet. He gasped, his already bruised torso not appreciating the beating.

“Don’t be stupid!” she yelled, her eyes wide with a fear he rarely saw in them. “We’ve got to get out of here! This place is coming down!”

“I can’t leave without him!” He rushed forward again only to hit the ground again as she tripped him.

“Hector, you can’t save him if you’re dead! “

He jumped up, ignoring the pain in his leg—falling from the vines hadn’t exactly been a picnic—and got in her face. “No! I promised I wouldn’t leave him. I am _not_ leaving this Tree until I have him!”

Her eyes searched him, looking for who-knows-what. Did she really think that little of him, that he’d leave his nephew behind in the shell of a crumbling ruin?

“Okay,” she answered. “Princess, you and the others go!” She motioned to the side of the Tree, where the destruction had caused a split in the wall.

“But Cassandra!” the princess argued, tears in her eyes. “She fell!”

Hector looked around. Sure enough, the handmaid was nowhere to be seen.

Which meant she was down there with Varian.

 _If_ they were still alive.

“You can’t save her. If she’s down there, we’ll get her.”

They would?

“Keep going, princess,” Adira ordered. “We’ll meet you outside. Just get away from the Tree!”

The thug with the hook grabbed the princess’s arm and tugged her away. The bald man had already grabbed the old man and the princess’s boyfriend and was carrying them to the exit, where the horses and owl had already run. The ledge above them collapsed forward, sending Kubwa tumbling onto the platform below. Hector motioned for him, Artemis, and Kiki to follow the others, hoping Riki had managed to get out safely. He and Adira turned to look at each other. Both drew their swords.

“We may not survive this,” Adira warned.

Hector nodded. “If that’s the case… I never hated you, sister. I was hurt. I felt betrayed. But I never hated you.”

She nodded. “I didn’t hate you either. I left because I wanted to free us. I knew if the Sundrop destroyed the Moonstone, we’d have our lives back. You’d be free to have the life you wouldn’t let yourself dream of having. You could have a family aside from us.”

He smiled sadly. “I have a family now.”

“Then let’s get him back.”

He put an arm around her and drew her close. She tensed at first but relaxed in his hold, wrapping her left arm around him in return. Then they ran for the edge, jumping off and into the darkness below, brother and sister reunited by a common cause for the first time in twenty-five years as the Great Tree fell to pieces around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the hardest chapters I've written!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	18. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector must rescue Varian and plan their next steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! If you don't celebrate it, have a wonderful day anyway!
> 
> Sorry this took a bit. It needed work.
> 
> Check out this artwork by @toatoons (https://www.instagram.com/p/CI_WrrEFl8M/) and @artist.geek555 (https://www.instagram.com/p/CI_gN9iF1Rb/)! Literally trying not to cry; these are so good!!!

Their feet slid across the falling rubble, skidding, slipping, unable to find purchase in the depth of the wreckage that crashed and collided around them. Cold light filtered around them, just enough for them to see the broken stones and branches that threatened to knock them out. They bounced from perch to perch, dancing in a dangerous maze as they spiraled further and further down. Adira’s sword shattered a block as it spun towards their heads. Hands clenched tightly together, they dropped gracefully through the center of the Tree, the dying light of the vines flickering distantly below them.

Hector yanked Adira off course as a boulder bounced off a wall and flew towards them. He sprang off a ruined wall and pulled her along, their movements perfectly in sync. Their years of training as a team rushed back, and he was aware of her every move and breath. When one depended on their siblings to keep them alive, they learned every habit, every gesture, every pattern of thought. They were a single unit, their blood-bond forged in the heat of battle, one mind in two bodies. And oh, how he’d missed that! How the aching loneliness pierced at him day by day, longing for his siblings to return and fight by his side, rest by his side, in war or peace. They were a part of him, and the years away had carved a hole in his heart. For all their fighting, for all their disagreements, for all their declarations that they were better off on their own, for every time they battled each other with blood in their minds and pain in their hearts, they all knew it was a lie. They all knew they missed a part of themselves when they were apart. It was a bond only rivaled by the truest love of a soulmate. Hector supposed that was why Quirin left; he found that truer love. It didn’t hurt any less, though, knowing that. He’d tried to be happy for him, but that was like being happy with someone cutting off his left arm. He’d missed his siblings, blast it, and if he would never see Quirin again and would likely lose Adira again once this was all over, he’d enjoy the time he had with his sister, even if it was for a cause he wished had never come to pass.

The ground rushed up below them, the last vestiges of the green glow fading from sight. The Tree continued to collapse as they slid across the wreckage and rolled to a stop at the bottom. The rubble rained down among them as their eyes scanned the pit, searching for the blue of the spear to light their way. They dodged the debris as they ran, their expert balance challenged by the dangerous footing below.

“Varian!” Hector yelled. “Varian, where are you? Talk to me, please!” Beside him, Adira was calling as well. Dust coated the wounds on his arm and head and lodged in his throat. He coughed and kept yelling. Varian might already be buried. Might be dead.

He shut that line of thinking down immediately. His kid had come too far to die now. He had to have faith. Varian was fine, just maybe dazed or unconscious.

A large piece of wood, torn from the walls of the Tree, ricocheted toward them. They ducked and rolled, never losing their grip on each other’s hand. As they leaped up, Adira suddenly pulled him off to the right. A section of stone wall slammed into where they had been standing and tumbled forward. They dove against the base of a rock as the wall crashed down on them, stopping inches above their heads. Hector started to move out from under it, but Adira pulled him back. She screamed something in his ear, the sound dulled by the thundering around them. She leaned closer and tried again.

“We have to wait it out!”

He shook his head, ignoring the searing pain in it that had only grown worse with the current circumstances. Varian was out there! He couldn’t afford to wait it out! He started to pull away, but Adira yanked him back down and wrapped her arms around him, pressing his head to her shoulder. “We can’t do anything for him now!”

He hated to admit she was right. But just the fact that she was holding him, restraining him, _comforting_ him even, meant she was serious. He sagged against her side, letting her keep him in place, listening to the sound of his home falling to pieces around him while his nephew was out there defenseless.

O‴O‴O‴

It was ages before the booming, clattering devastation slowed to an end. Hector wasn’t overly given to emotions, but the sound of his home falling apart in the darkness tore at him inside. As sunlight finally drifted through the haze, he and Adira pushed their way out of their hiding place and looked around. The Tree was, surprisingly, somewhat intact, though ruined beyond repair. The shell still stood, morning light pouring in through gaping holes in the sides. Hector blinked and shielded his eyes as pain stabbed through his head, noting Adira watching him strangely. He’d nearly forgotten about his concussion.

They stumbled to their feet, still clinging to each other, and looked around. Hector placed thoughts of the destruction from his mind and focused on the task at hand. If Varian was okay, he wouldn’t care about anything else. All that mattered was his boy’s safety.

Step after careful step, they picked through the remains. The piles underneath them swayed dangerously. “Varian!” Hector screamed, his throat raw. “Where are you?” The Tree was massive, and it could take hours or even days to search. Varian might not have that kind of time.

A screech from above dragged his eyes up. Artemis glided down through the Tree to circle them. Then she flew on, her bright eyes piercing through the ruin. “Attagirl,” Hector rasped.

It pained him to know Adira had probably been right in trying to make him leave the Tree. He could have come back when the Tree settled and looked for Varian then instead of risking his own life as well as Adira’s. But he’d promised he wouldn’t leave Varian. He had no intention of doing so now. He’d never forgive himself if he had a chance to save him and didn’t take it.

Artemis called to them from the distance, circling a few feet above the ground. The warriors slipped and tumbled over to the hawk. Laying against the stones, a pale, half-buried body stuck out from under a makeshift shelter of brick, much like their own. Hector rushed forward, letting go of Adira and dropping to his knees beside the boy. His sister disappeared from his side. “Varian? Varian, talk to me! Tell me you’re okay!” He ripped off his glove and placed his fingers against the boy’s throat, feeling for a pulse. He nearly cried when he found it.

Varian stirred at the touch and flinched away with a whimper. Hector withdrew his hand. “Var, kid, it’s me! It’s Hector. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here now.” Varian’s eyes fluttered open, dust lacing his thick lashes. He squinted in the sudden light, and Hector shifted to let his shadow cross over him.

He was alive. Thank all that was holy, he was alive! Dazed, disoriented, covered in blood, but blessedly alive.

“Glad you’re okay,” Hector choked out. “Now I’m gonna kill you.”

Varian’s eyes widened in fear.

“Crap! Sorry. Old inside joke. I’m not—you’re gonna be fine.” Being around Adira again had brought up old habits and phrases he’d nearly forgotten. That sort of talk was okay for his siblings, but not for his battered nephew.

Adira came up beside him. “Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I found the lady-in-waiting. She’s better off than him. Let’s get him out and leave.” She knelt down to start unburying the child.

“Wait!” Hector ordered. He searched around until he found a small piece of smooth wood. “Bite this, kid.” Varian opened his mouth slightly for Hector to slip the wood between his teeth. “Ready?”

Varian nodded, wincing as he did so. Hector and Adira reached for the sheltering stone and lifted it gently, setting it off to the side. Then they started digging him out from under the rest of the remnants. Varian hissed and grimaced but otherwise made no sound. When one of the rocks came off his chest, he bit down on the wood hard enough to crack it.

Hector struggled to control his temper. Another part of the damage these people had caused. Varian had been so quiet when they met, afraid that his screams of pain would result in punishment. He’d done better since then, willing to let on when something hurt him, but Hector had worried he’d fall back into his old habit of biting himself to keep silent. Hence the wood.

Tears collected in the corners of his nephew’s eyes as they continued to unbury him. Aside from a slight gasp here and there, he was silent as—well, as a tomb. His eyes stared, unfocused, at a spot somewhere off in the distance.

Every action pained Hector probably almost as much as it hurt Varian. Every little noise he made, every time he cut himself off quickly, sent daggers into the warrior’s heart. As he worked, his brain pounded with unhelpful reminders. _This is your fault. You were supposed to protect him. You weren’t quick enough. You were_ right there _and you couldn’t grab his hand. He’s in pain because of you. If you hadn’t sent him back to the Tree in the first place, he wouldn’t be hurt right now._

They kept working, hands moving rapidly and carefully, Hector trying to keep his mind from going into shutdown. _You said you were never going to hurt him again. You_ just _said that and look at him now._

“Hector.” Adira placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t.”

He didn’t have to ask. He knew her. And she knew him. He nodded. Years of training kicked in, and he shoved his emotions to the side to deal with once the situation had been resolved. His siblings had been injured before, and the immediate circumstances had to be taken care of first. The mental stuff went into a corner to be sorted later.

They pulled the last of the stones and wood off the boy. Hector breathed a sigh of relief as he got a full look at his nephew. Nothing looked to be broken, at least not at a glance. His ribs would need to be checked. He had fallen on the dead and dormant vines—Hector reminded himself to check later and make sure the spear was safely embedded in them, just in case—and the stone that had fallen over him had sheltered him from the worst of the destruction.

He was going to be okay.

Hector reached down to lift the boy into his arms. Varian gasped and shrank away, moaning a little as he moved.

“What now?” Adira asked. “We have to move him, but we don’t know the extent of his injuries. And we can’t check him out here.”

He weighed their options. “Nothing for it. We have to get him out of here. I’ll get him. You get the other one. I don’t trust myself not to stab her if I see her.”

Adira stood and returned to where she had found the handmaid. While she fetched her, Hector set about helping Varian. “I’m gonna pick you up now, ‘kay? It’s probably going to hurt like the dickens, so take a deep breath.”

Varian nodded shakily. Hector slipped an arm under his back, grimacing at the soft cry of fear and pain his nephew gave despite his attempts to keep quiet. He carefully extricated him, gathering him into his arms with all the care and caution of a mother. Not that he knew anything about that; he couldn’t even remember his own mother. Or father, for that matter.

He remembered the first time he had rescued Varian and carried him to safety. He’d been an absolute idiot then, throwing the boy over his shoulder despite his obvious injuries. He was more careful now, gently supporting his head as it leaned against Hector’s chest.

“Hector?” Adira had slung the girl who had caused this mess over her shoulders and returned to them. “About Quirin…”

Varian, lying tense and stiff in Hector’s arms, flinched. Hector looked down at the boy and shook his head. “Later.”

“Please. At least tell me what the princess had to do with it.”

He weighed his words carefully. “She made a promise then didn’t keep it. Varian and Quirin paid the price.”

“Didn’t or couldn’t?”

“Didn’t.”

They fell silent as they picked their way through the ruin. At the wall of the pit, they stopped and looked up. “What’s the plan?” Hector asked. “We could climb, but I don’t want to hurt Varian.”

“I’ll climb and throw down a rope,” Adira offered.

A blonde head peered over the edge. “There they are! Guys, I found them!” Several more heads joined the first. “Okay, hold on! We made a sling!”

A makeshift stretcher was lowered down by ropes. Adira nodded to Hector. “Take Varian first.”

He placed the child on the stretcher and tied the attached belts around him to hold him in place. “I’ll be right beside you, ‘kay?” He motioned for them to pull him up, nervous about placing his nephew’s life in the hands of those who had let him down before. But they weren’t likely to drop him, not with Adira holding the handmaid.

He scaled the wall of the pit, outpacing the stretcher. Fitzherbert and the bald man were at the top, pulling the ropes. As the child came into view, Hector unhooked him and scooped him up before the stretcher even hit the ground. The princess, standing nearby, gasped in horror as she saw the boy.

Adira and Cassandra joined them. Then they silently journeyed through the wreck of the Tree to the mountain path on the other side from which they had entered yesterday. It felt like an eternity ago to Hector. As they emerged from the ruin, the sudden fierceness of the morning light, unblocked by the shade of the Tree, stabbed daggers into Hector’s eyes. He flinched and stumbled, keeping his head down. At the edge of the Tree, the men clambered up the side of the mountain and lowered the stretcher once more to help the two injured up. The animals waited for them, Riki laying near Kubwa and Kiki. Artemis sat on Kubwa’s head, and Kiki held a squirming Ruddiger in between his paws. The raccoon screeched when he saw Varian. The sound set Hector’s teeth clenching together.

“Here.” Adira motioned to a nearby tree. They placed their charges, semiconscious and unconscious, in the shade. Hector sat next to Varian and put his head down. As the adrenaline wore off, he became aware of just how tired he really was. Every muscle in his body ached, his bones felt like lead, and his vision had become unfocused.

Adira grimaced as she looked at him. “You look like crap. Go to sleep.”

“’M fine. Gotta help Varian.”

“I’ll take care of him. You need to rest. You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

He glared up at her. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

“You can hardly see him as it is. I’m not going to let anything happen to him. Go to sleep.”

He grumbled but acquiesced. The animals could keep an eye out. He stretched out near his nephew and propped his hands behind his head.

“After I’m done checking him over, I’ll take a look at your injuries,” Adira informed him.

“I’m fine.”

She gave a disapproving glare.

“Whatever. Fine. Just take care of him first.” He closed his eyes. Within seconds, he fell asleep.

O‴O‴O‴

He awoke to an unholy screeching. He sprang to his feet and unsheathed his sword, checking Varian’s location before he moved to attack anything. The boy was laying nearby still, but he writhed and twisted. His blue eyes were wide with fear, and he dragged himself backwards to press himself up against the tree, sheltering himself with his arms.

Adira stood nearby, her mouth open in shock. In her hand was a bucket, dripping with water. Hector noted Varian’s missing shirt, his blood mingling with the water pouring off his thin body.

“WHAT THE CRAP, ADIRA!” He threw himself in between the two. Nearby, Ruddiger was scrambling to get out of Kiki’s grip, where Adira had apparently ordered him to stay as she tended to Varian.

“I don’t know what happened!” his sister exclaimed. “I was trying to clean his wounds!”

“By throwing water on him?” He turned to the child. “Varian, hey, kid, look at me. You’re safe. It’s okay. Look at me, huh?”

Varian pressed further into the tree, curling up in fright. His teeth chattered, probably both from fear and cold. Hector took off his cloak and draped it over his nephew. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re safe. I’ll protect you. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

“What was that?” Adira asked, her voice low. The others sat nearby, watching.

He glared up at her. “When you said you were taking care of his injuries, I didn’t think you meant _throwing water on him_.” He kept his tone calm so as not to startle Varian. “He’s had that done too much. Which I personally think is the reason even more of his wounds weren’t infected than already were when I found him, since Heaven knows he didn’t get medical attention!”

“What do you mean?” The princess stood and came over to them. Her handmaid sat near the others, her arm in a sling.

“I mean they had this thing about dumping water on him to wake him up. Or just if they felt like it. It’s probably the only thing that kept his injuries clean. Still didn’t do much, since I had to treat him for infection and fever when I rescued him, and now he’s got this thing about water since he thinks it means they’re gonna hurt him. He’s fine if it’s raining or he’s expecting it, unless someone surprises him. Like, oh, I don’t know, _tossing a bucket of cold water on him when he’s already in shock!_ ” He didn’t feel too much hesitance in informing the princess of this. About time she saw what damage her people caused.

He turned to Varian, who had uncurled slightly. Blue eyes peered up at him, swimming with tears. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re not there again. I’m here.” He held out a hand. Varian flinched and drew back, but he cautiously looked up again and extended his own quivering hand in return, letting his fingers brush against Hector’s palm just barely. “Hey, that’s it. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He continued to speak gently for several minutes. Varian kept his other arm around himself, which worried Hector. He needed to make sure Varian didn’t have any damage to his ribs, and the way he was sitting was bound to put unnecessary strain on them.

“Hector?”

He turned to look at the princess, noting the concerned look on her face. “What.” He couldn’t be bothered to frame it as a question.

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” In a time when he felt less like crap, he might get sarcastic. For now, he didn’t care. “I do.”

“How did this happen? I mean, how did the two of you meet?”

“How did I rescue him, you mean?”

She winced. “Yeah.”

He met Varian’s eyes again. The child glanced off, clearly uncomfortable. Hector stood and motioned for the princess to follow him away.

“I went to Corona looking for Quirin. Found his body. Then I found Varian.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair and wincing when his fingers tangled in the section matted with blood. “I thought he was dead when I first looked at him. I didn’t see how any kid could look like that and still be alive.” His yellow eyes flashed with anger. “The things they did to him… I know your plan is to put him back in prison, but my plan is to keep him as far away from that place as possible, and since I’m his guardian, my plan goes. I won’t let those _sadists_ touch him ever again.”

“Look, whatever happened to Varian down there, I’m sure my father doesn’t know. I know Varian said it was him, but maybe he thought Dad gave the orders—”

“Your dad was _there_ , princess. He was there, _watching_ , when they tortured Varian. Face it. He hated this kid enough to want him to suffer.”

“I—I don’t understand! He said he’d help!”

“And you said Varian wouldn’t be on his own. You said you’d help him. Fact is, princess, Varian is expendable to you and your father. It doesn’t matter what happens to him. Just so long as he does what he’s told and stays out of the way. But he’s not expendable to me. I won’t let anyone hurt him. And that’s _my_ promise.” He pointed at her. “Listen. The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because Varian doesn’t want me to. Heaven only knows why, ‘cause if it was up to me, you’d’ve died back in the Tree. Plus, if I tried to kill you now, one of your friends would kill Varian, and I’m not exactly in a good condition to defend him. But if you try to go to the Dark Kingdom, I assure you I’ll have ample opportunity to make you regret it. So go back to your pretty little palace and your loving family and forget about your fool’s errand. Now if you’ll excuse me, my nephew is having a panic attack, and I need to take care of him.” He stalked back to the tree, where Adira was chatting with Varian to try to calm him down.

“Hey, kiddo. How you doing?”

Varian looked up as he came over. “Fine,” he whispered.

“Bullcrap. Mind if I check you over if you’re so ‘fine’?”

Varian slowly uncurled and slid forward to lay down at Hector’s order. The warrior examined his charge carefully. He was in pitiful condition, but still he looked ten times better than the day Hector had met him. He reached for the second pail of water and took the cloth Adira handed him. “’Kay. I need to clean these cuts. They don’t look to bad; I just have to make sure they don’t get infected. Adira, get the bandages and medicine from the bag on Kubwa’s saddle.”

She complied, and he set to work cleaning the cuts. Varian didn’t make a sound outside the occasional hiss. Hector used one of the canteens to pour the water directly on him to wash away the dirt and grime. The others hung back to give them some modicum of privacy and modesty.

“S-so-orry,” the child gasped out.

“For what?”

“I sh-shoul-dn’t have tried to-to fight them. Tried to stop th-them. Should—should’ve stayed put.” He coughed, and Hector lifted the canteen to his lips.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “This isn’t your fault. It was my responsibility to protect you, and I failed.” Varian started to shake his head, but Hector kept talking. “You were only doing what I taught you to do. And that’s my fault. I didn’t mean to pressure you and make you feel like you had to protect the path. It’s my job, not yours, and I should have told you that.” He smiled softly. “I’m proud of you for trying, though. But it’s okay if you worry about your own safety every once in a while, you know. You’re too selfless.”

“I should’ve left when you said.”

“You were trying to protect me. Just remember from now on, that’s my job.”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Nah. I just want you to be more careful. You scared me half to death.”

Varian gave a weak smile. “Then I could fully kill a normal person like that?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Don’t try it.”

Varian stuck his tongue out. Hector returned the gesture childishly as he finished patching the boy up. As soon as he was finished, Adira descended upon him with all the gentleness of a thunderstorm and started fussing about his head. He grimaced and allowed her ministrations. The less he argued, the quicker it would go.

O‴O‴O‴

“So, what now?” Varian looked over at where his home had once stood.

Hector sat cross-legged next to him, his head and arm finally bandaged. “Now, we keep going. We— _I_ have a job to do.” He stood and approached the group, who sat talking nearby.

About that time, the bald man stumbled up the mountainside, carrying two more buckets and panting as if he’d run a marathon. “How… do… you… move… so… fast…” He set the buckets down and collapsed.

“He insisted on coming with me,” Adira informed Hector as she retrieved the buckets. Then she turned to the others. “By the way, I followed the river back and fetched the caravan. It’s a bit waterlogged, but once it dries, it should be fine. It’s waiting at the base of the mountain.”

“Thank you, Adira,” the princess answered. “We still have a long ways to go.”

“You left Varian _alone_ with them?” Hector hissed angrily.

“For a few minutes. I told them not to mess with him, and the princess agreed.”

Hector rolled his eyes and turned back to the others. See if he got any sleep after this. He’d need to keep his focus on his nephew at all times if Adira wouldn’t watch him. “So I see you didn’t give my more-than-generous offer any consideration,” he growled. “Fine. Your blood’s on your own heads.”

The latecomer, apparently not paying any attention, picked his head up. “How’s the kid?”

“Better,” Adira responded. “Mind keeping an eye on him while my brother and I talk? Don’t let him fall asleep. He hit his head.”

He trudged over and sat down next to Varian, who sat leaned up against the tree with Hector’s cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. Adira motioned for Hector to follow her away from the others. “Listen, Hector, I know what the Sundrop is capable of. If you’d just come with us, you’d see, too. She has the power to stop the Moonstone. Isn’t it worth it to try?”

“So now not only do you want to commit treason, you want me to help? I won’t be complicit in this. Either stand aside or kill me, because I’m not letting you take her to the Dark Kingdom.”

Her brows knitted in distress. “Hector, I don’t want to fight you. I’m tired of fighting about this. I’m ready for it to be over. Aren’t you? Decades dedicated to protecting the Moonstone, watching it destroy everything? Our people, our homes? What more can it take from us? Eventually, we’re going to die. There will be no one left to carry out the mission.”

“There will be one. Varian knows what damage the Moonstone causes. With proper training, he’ll be a formidable knight.”

“And you’d bind another to the same life of denial and imprisonment we suffered?”

“We took our oath willingly, sister.” Hector tried to muster up any anger at her but found it impossible. “We knew what we were doing. We did this to keep others from losing everything.”

“And they still did. The Moonstone’s power can’t be contained. It reached all the way to Corona to summon the Sundrop. I saw the destruction it caused. Keeping people from its evil won’t keep it’s evil from people. It’s time to find a permanent solution. And we have one.”

“Mind if I join you?” The princess appeared beside them. Hector rolled his eyes and motioned for her to speak. “I know you want to protect the Moonstone, but as the Sundrop, it’s my destiny to stop it. Whatever it takes. What are your concerns about the situation?” She held her shoulders back, acting like the princess she was.

Hector decided to humor her. “My ‘concerns’ are that I took an oath to keep anyone from going to the Dark Kingdom and disturbing the Moonstone. I’m ‘concerned’ that trying to destroy it will cause another wave of destruction like the one that got us banished in the first place. I’m ‘concerned’ that this is all a ruse so that someone could steal the blasted thing.”

“Oh.” She took a step back. “Then why not come with us?”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to protect it. So come with us to make sure we don’t do anything wrong. That way no one steals it. And we can do it right to make sure nothing bad happens when we destroy it.”

“And just how do you plan to do that, Your Royal Snootiness?”

Her mouth dropped in an offended O. “Okay, that was uncalled for. But I can see your worries. _This_ is how we can do it.” She pulled scraps of paper out of her purse.

“Ooh, nice! Kindling. We can start a campfire and sing songs with the stone. Maybe it’ll be so happy it’ll just jump into your hands!”

“Ha. Sarcasm aside, this is part of a scroll that gives answers about the Sundrop and Moonstone. Maybe there’s an answer on how to destroy it safely. The problem is, we don’t have all the pieces yet. And we’d need someone to translate it.” She glanced over at Varian, who was listening to the bald man spin some whimsical tale. Something about birds?

Hector’s nerves stood on end. “Leave Varian out of this. Stay away from him. In fact, don’t talk to him at all.”

She drew back. “I just want to ask him. He translated part of it before. If you want, you can ask him.”

“I don’t want to, though. He’s hurting enough as it is. The last thing he needs is anything more to do with you people.”

“Hector.” Adira stepped closer. “Princess Rapunzel may have a point. If Varian can tell her how to safely destroy the stone, we’ll have nothing to worry about. Besides, bringing the two together may end up destroying both of them, so we won’t even have to worry about an imbalance.”

“I’m still concerned about bringing _these_ two together.” He jerked his thumb at the princess, then at Varian. “My answer is no.”

He turned away and walked back over to Varian. The boy smiled wearily as he returned. “Hey. Lance was just telling me about the time they turned into birds. I think they met the same people who turned me into a cat.”

“Whoa, wait a minute; you turned into a cat?!” Lance gasped in shock. “Oh, that had to be so _adorable_!”

“It was… kinda weird.”

“It was adorable,” Hector added. “Until he nearly died. How you feelin’?”

“I’ve been better. Been worse.” He shrugged. “I’m tired.”

“I know. You can’t go to sleep yet, sorry. Not after whacking your head like that.” He paced near the edge of the ledge, looking down at the remnants of the Great Tree.

“What are we going to do now? I know you said we keep going, but go where? Do we have an actual plan? We don’t even have a home anymore.”

“You could always come with us,” Lance offered cheerfully.

“Yeah, no. But thanks.”

“You don’t get a choice,” a voice came from behind Hector. He turned to see Cassandra walking over to them. Varian scrambled up against the tree to get away from her, and Hector immediately placed himself between the two of them.

“Keep your hands off him,” he snarled. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Technically, he’s my prisoner, so yeah, he is. You want to try to fight all of us?”

“For him to be your prisoner, you’d actually have to have him. If you haven’t noticed, _I_ have him right now.”

“I can change that.”

“You wanna fight with a busted arm, _lady-in-waiting_? I’ll do more than break bones this time.”

She started to make a retort, but their attention was caught by the cold voice behind them.

“I won’t go back.”

O‴O‴O

They both turned to look at Varian. He didn’t meet their eyes. “I won’t go back,” he growled, trying to stop the chattering of his teeth. He had calmed down from his former shock at Adira’s questionable medical treatment—yet another thing that shouldn’t bother him; he was fine whenever he and Hector did splash wars, because he was expecting it, but this was another bad reminder of his prison days—but he was still freezing. “I told you that. I know I did wrong, but my debt was paid the hard way. I didn’t deserve the things they did to me.”

“You tried to kill people!”

“I know what I did.” He looked up to glare at her finally, though keeping his eyes open was becoming more and more difficult. “I’m not saying it was right, or I didn’t deserve to be punished. But the things they did to me were… beyond justice. It was their chance to be cruel and take out their frustration on a kid who couldn’t fight back, and they took that chance. And for the record, I never tried to escape. I thought I deserved it. They told me I did, and I believed them. Uncle Hector had to rescue me from prison and from my own mind. So, yeah, you’ll either have to kill me or let me go. But my debt has been paid.”

Fitzherbert, who was listening nearby, scoffed. “Your debt was paid? Look, I’m all for second chances and forgiveness and all, but how is getting roughed up a bit payment for treason and attempted murder?”

“’Roughed up a bit’?” Varian snarled. “You don’t have a clue what they did to me! You think just because you got a second chance, you’re the defining bar of what constitutes a reformed criminal? You think you get to decide how much I have to suffer? Why didn’t you come to my trial and tell them how much to punish me, then? Oh, right; I didn’t _get_ a trial! If the queen herself thinks I deserved a second chance, who are you to tell me I don’t?”

They exchanged glances of confusion. “What do you mean?” the princess asked.

“I mean she showed me mercy. Helped Uncle Hector get me out. She saw more in me than what I or anyone else saw.”

Her eyes widened. “Plus est en vous,” she whispered.

Varian nodded. “’There is more in you’.”

“She told me that the day of my coronation.” She smiled sadly. “She’s good at that. Seeing more in people.”

He sighed and put his head in his hands. “She’s the last person who should’ve had mercy on me. But she did it anyway. I was unconscious. Didn’t even get to tell her I was sorry. And I wanted to. To apologize to her. I wanted to say sorry to all of you. Didn’t get the chance. You left.”

“Well, you could do it now,” Cassandra growled, pointing at him with her sword in her left hand. Hector snarled and flicked his wrist. Varian held up a hand to stop him.

“I’ll apologize on my own terms, when I’m ready,” he answered, glaring up at Cassandra. “Not when I’m being held at sword-point.”

“You may not get another chance,” Hookfoot noted. “This guy seems pretty determined to kill us.”

“Whether or not you die is completely up to you,” Hector answered. “Those of you who do the smart thing and go back home will get to live. Those of you who don’t won’t. Simple.”

“Yeah, simple,” Fitzherbert grumbled. “Except we still have a job to do, and if we don’t, the black rocks destroy everything in their path and we’ll probably all die anyways.”

“The operative word being ‘probably’. If you keep going, you’ll _definitely_ die.”

The princess came closer and sat near Varian. Hector growled but didn’t stop her. He kept his sword out, though, the threat obvious.

“Look, Varian, I know we don’t see eye to eye—” she grimaced when he scoffed rudely and pointed to his blind side— “but there’s one thing we can agree on. The black rocks take everything. So many people have suffered from them. You especially. But if we work together, we can stop them once and for all.” She pulled the papers from her bag.

“What did I _just_ tell you?” Hector snapped.

“I think it should be his choice. Varian, this is part of the Demanitus scroll. If you can translate it, we can stop the Moonstone safely. And maybe we can figure out how to save your dad.”

He took a breath to keep the tears at bay. Of all things, why did she have to bring that up? “My dad is dead, princess.”

“But you were so certain he was still alive! That’s why you did what you did.”

“Do you honestly think he’s still alive? Look me in the eyes and tell me you think he managed to survive a year in there. I had hope he was okay. Prison has a way of making a person’s perspective change. That’s when I started to think maybe I was wrong. They all said he was dead, anyways.”

Her brows creased sadly. “I’m sorry. We can at least free his body, though. You can give him a proper burial.”

He huffed. “Really? Isn’t bribing beneath you, princess? Trying to get me on your side with the _one_ thing you know for a fact is my weak point? My dad was a knight of the Brotherhood. He’d never let you take the stone.”

“I disagree,” Adira interjected. “He’s the one who told me of the Sundrop, remember? He had faith that she could solve the problem.”

“And a lot of good that did him.” He drew back into his protective ball, keeping Hector’s cloak around his shoulders. “She couldn’t help him. And why should I trust her this time? She let me down last time when it came to my dad. Why is this any different? You’ll get what you want from me and leave me to pick up the pieces afterwards. Just like before.”

“Varian, I—”

“Is this where you bring up the blizzard again? Because then I say you had a whole month, and then you can’t give a good excuse, and then Cassandra defends you, and we could keep going in circles. I’m not in the mood.”

She held out the papers. “Would you at least look?”

He rolled his eyes and glanced over the papers in her hands. Then his blood ran cold. He reached out and snatched one. “Th-this is…” He clutched the paper in trembling hands. “This was my dad’s. The one I sent you to get from my lab.” He shuddered at the reminder of that day. His freedom won, if only for a few days, but at the cost of his own sanity.

She nodded. “We have two other pieces of it now. Once we get the fourth piece, we can figure out what Demanitus was trying to tell us.”

“Demanitus, huh?” He looked over the piece in his hand and the ones she was still holding. “Yeah. I recognize the writing.”

“Could you translate it?”

“Of course I could. I spent weeks translating the scrolls in the Tree you just destroyed. Most of them were written by Demanitus as well. A week or so and I could have this one finished.”

“Great!” She tried to hand him the other two pieces.

He drew back. “I didn’t say I’d do it. I just said I could.”

“I don’t get you, kid,” Fitzherbert spoke up. “One day, you’re dead-set on solving the black rock mystery and putting a stop to all the destruction so you could save Corona, now you’re trying to stop us from doing the _one_ thing that could!”

Varian whipped his head around. “ _That’s_ your argument? Really? Pulling on my desire to save Corona? You know what? I _did_ want to save Corona. I was willing to do what no one, including your _wonderful_ father, princess, would. I tried to stop the rocks. And you know what I got for my trouble? Weeks of imprisonment and abuse before I even did the first crime. And when I finally got desperate, when I finally decided to become what everyone already thought I was… well, I learned my lesson. So no. I tried to save Corona, and I paid for it.”

“But we have options now!” the princess argued. “Now that we know what we’re doing, now that we have part of the scroll, we can stop the rocks! We can save Corona, your f—we can save everyone.”

“You couldn’t even fix the amber. What makes you think you’re good enough to stop an unstoppable rock?”

She smiled brightly. “If you help us—”

“No!” He jumped to his feet and threw the paper to the ground, the cloak falling from his shoulders. His muscles screamed from the exertion. “No, last time I helped you, you recruited me and then left me to take the fall for something you asked me to do. I spent _months_ regretting the fact that I said yes. I’m not going through that again. I won’t let you use me like a tool and throw me away when you’re done. Not again.”

Expecting a rebuttal to his argument, he was surprised to hear only silence. He turned back to see looks of horror and pain across their faces. He tilted his head, trying to understand why they were staring at him like that. Even the chameleon had turned a sickly shade of yellow. He drew back under their gaze, wrapping his arms around his bruised chest nervously. That was when he noticed.

His shirt was missing.

His wounds—the older, unbandaged ones—were exposed.

They saw him.

Hector, thankfully, picked up the cloak and draped it back over Varian. He pulled the cloth around him and turned away from their fixed gazes. His cheeks flamed with humiliation, and his eyes burned with tears. No. He would not compound his shame by crying in front of them. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away.

“Varian…” Lance stepped closer. Varian backed up in fear, bumping into Hector. He jumped away, his nerves standing on end. He hung his head and tugged the cloak tighter around him.

The man graciously stepped back. “They did _that_ to you?” he asked quietly, his voice thin over a stormcloud of rage. Varian could only nod, not trusting his voice.

He had come to despise his scars. The months of abuse had left him covered in a patchwork of cuts, burns, and holes that laced up his back, across his abdomen, over his shoulders, tracing up his neck and onto his face. They ran down his legs and onto his feet, which were thankfully covered at the moment, and lined both arms. The marks on his hands were covered by thin fighter’s gloves rather than the thick leather he was used to. His face wasn’t as damaged as the rest of him, just a few scars across his cheeks, chin, and forehead, but he’d still considered wearing a mask if he ever had to leave the Tree.

This was the first time he’d had his brokenness exposed to anyone but Hector. This was the first time an enemy saw the results of months of suffering.

Hector, seeing his distress, put himself between Varian and the others. “Look, you guys have caused enough damage. Leave. I’ll hunt you later, but right now, I have to deal with the situation you’ve created.”

They drew back, giving the two space. Varian slid down against the base of the tree and curled up again. Hector sat near him.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“No.” His body was shaking, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t seek refuge in Hector’s embrace, couldn’t even bring himself to allow the tears to break free and streak down his scarred face. _Not safe. Danger. Don’t be vulnerable._ They wouldn’t touch him, but he couldn’t accept the feeling of safety yet. Not while they were near.

Hector handed him his shirt, which he quickly slipped on. “Sorry,” the warrior muttered. “Should’ve given that back sooner.”

“It’s fine.” He glanced over to where the others were talking. Occasionally one would glance his direction and either glare (Cassandra) or give a sympathetic look (everyone else). “What do you think they’ll do now?”

“They’ll keep going. I’ll have to follow them.”

“How do we stop them?”

“’We’?” Hector shook his head. “No, this is my job. I can’t let you be around them, even if it’s just to fight them. I’ll take care of it, and you and Ruddiger will go with one of the bearcats and hide somewhere until I get back.”

Varian drew himself up and crossed his arms. “What? No, I’m supposed to be protecting the Moonstone, too!”

“Kid, it’s not safe. This is more serious than a couple bandits or something. You’ve already had half a dozen panic attacks since they showed up, and that was yesterday. And they’re threatening you.”

“I’m fine,” he growled. “These people took everything from me. I’m not letting them take my mission. I’m not part of the Brotherhood, but I made a commitment to protect the stone. I don’t want to back down just because it’s them. _Especially_ because it’s them.”

“You won’t have to,” Adira said, coming over to them. “I’ve spoken with the princess, and we may have a compromise.”

“No,” Hector stated bluntly.

“You didn’t even listen.”

“Don’t need to. ‘Compromise’ means I give up a part of my plan.”

She sat next to them. “Look. Come to the Dark Kingdom with us. We’ll speak to the king. I believe the Sundrop could be the answer to our problem. If the king says we can try, we try. If not, I’ll back down. The princess can do what she wants, but I won’t be a part of it. If what I’m doing is treason, let’s take this to King Edmund. I’ll respect his decision. Just give us a chance to talk to him.”

The princess walked over. “If you come with us, we can work together. We’ll follow your lead when it comes to the stone.” She extended a hand, at which Varian jerked away. She drew back. “For the first time, we might have a permanent solution. A way to fix all the bad things that have happened over the last few years. Well, longer, I suppose, since the Dark Kingdom’s suffered for a while. Shouldn’t we at least try? It couldn’t hurt to ask.”

Hector stared up in apparent disbelief. “Let me get this right. You want us to come with you and ask the king if he was wrong all those years ago and maybe we should do something potentially deadly on the off-chance it actually works? And if he says yes, we give it a shot; and if he says no, you stop trying to reunite the Sundrop and Moonstone? I’m still seeing a lot of room for error. And error can get people killed.”

“It’s a chance,” Adira responded. “It’s more than we’ve had in a long time. I’m sick of watching people’s lives be ruined by the Moonstone. Protecting it has done nothing to stop its power. We have to take action while we can. All I’m asking is that you give us a chance to try. To talk to the king and get his advice.”

The siblings held their gaze for a moment. Varian tried to read the messages in their eyes unsuccessfully.

“It’s not treason if I’m asking permission,” Adira added. “And I’ll help keep Short Hair and the others away from Varian.” Her eyes flashed with a cold fury. Varian realized with a shock she was angry about his scars. He’d told her about being abused, but this was the first time she’d seen them.

Hector continued to glare at her. Then he shrugged. “Well, we don’t exactly have a home anymore, so I suppose we’d either be going with you or following you. And if the king says no, I can still try to kill the Sundrop if she won’t go back. I don’t like it, but I’ll respect whatever decision he makes.”

“Wait, _what_?” Varian gasped. “You said we weren’t going to let them—”

“I know what I said. Fact is, this is a better option than trying to stop them now. Remember what I told you about strategic withdraws?”

“‘Sometimes it’s better to wait and live to fight later’,” he quoted from one of their lessons.

“Exactly. We can’t take them right now, but if the king gives us permission, we’ll be on better footing to fight them later.” He shrugged. “Besides, we’ll have the king to help us fight as well. And I know the Dark Kingdom’s terrain. And Adira _probably_ won’t fight against us, though I may be wrong. She’s disobeyed the king in the past.”

“Not this time,” she assured them. “If the king says we can’t use the Sundrop, and the princess tries anyway, I won’t stop you.”

“Adira!” the princess exclaimed.

“It’s a compromise,” Adira reminded her. “I’ll follow my king’s orders.”

She nodded understandingly. Then she held out the papers to Varian. “You can translate it if you want. Then if the king says we can try, you can tell us what it says. I won’t ask before. Fair?”

Varian watched her the way an injured animal watched a predator. Slowly, he reached out and took the papers. “S-so do we have to tr-travel with you?” He inwardly berated the stutter that crept into his voice. He was fed up with these people. Did he really have to stick with them until the Dark Kingdom? He didn’t know if he could take that.

She gasped. “That would be brilliant! We could make room in the caravan. It’d be like a sleepover!”

His shoulders hunched as he glowered at her.

“Okay. Not a sleepover. Sorry.”

“And you’re okay with me coming?” he asked Hector.

The warrior shrugged. “If they promise to behave, and if you think you can come without getting a panic attack. Me and Adira can keep you safe.”

He put his head in his hands. Part of him wanted to scream. Were they really going to go with _them_? To take the chance of destroying the Moonstone, of betraying the oath? Technically, Varian hadn’t taken said oath, but he was training to be a knight and protect the stone.

On the other hand, he’d suffered enough from the black rocks to make him want to keep anyone else from going through what he went through. Thoughts of his village, ripped and gutted by the rocks, barren and ruined, crowded his brain. The people whose lives had been ruined, who had lost everything, all because of a stupid rock seeking out its counterpart. And now there was a chance to stop it. To give it what it wanted rather than fighting against it.

But attempts to stop the rocks had only led to pain and destruction. The Dark Kingdom had been destroyed when the king tried to take the stone. Varian himself had found himself pitted against an enemy who showed no mercy. No one who tried to fight the problem ever succeeded.

Was this their answer, then? Use a power of equal strength to counteract it?

If they failed, they might die.

If they won, no one else would feel the loss and heartbreak the stone caused.

He groaned. He really didn’t have a choice, did he? “I’m going to regret this. But fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I looked back through some of these chapters, and there's a whole lot more angst than I originally planned! And there's more to come. I promise, there is fluff coming! Please bear with me until we get there.
> 
> I don't know how to add a picture in here (someone please tell me; I'm pushing the limits of my technological skills just posting chapters) so here's the link to some art I wanted to show you as my Christmas present to you!  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CJNaD5MhAE-/
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	19. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins. Hector has several important conversations and an existential crisis. Varian has a fever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year (almost)!
> 
> Thank y'all for over 500 kudos! Y'all are the best. Thank you for giving this story a chance. You don't know how much that's encouraged me!
> 
> Trigger warnings: touch aversion, mentions of previous torture

“What’s that?”

Varian looked up as a shadow passed over him. The princess was standing nearby, looking down at the picture in his hands. Adira stepped closer, having been tasked with watching him while Hector and Kiki rooted through the Tree to find anything that could be salvaged. “My family,” he answered.

She tilted her head. “Aww, they were so cute!”

“Did you want something, princess?” he asked bluntly.

She stepped back. “No, just to see what you were doing.”

Varian leaned up against the tree and closed his eyes, Ruddiger warm against his side. Almost too warm. Despite the natural coldness of this region, he was burning up in the afternoon sunlight. Adira still didn’t want him to go to sleep, so the best he could do was try to relax. Easier said than done. He didn’t feel safe without Hector here, his new injuries stung, he had a headache, and he could feel eyes on him. Some, like Cassandra, were glaring. Others cast looks of pity in his direction. He wanted to scream. But that would be undignified. If he was going to be stuck with these people for the foreseeable future, he was going to maintain his composure, blast it!

Hector climbed back over the edge of the cliff and set a bag on the ground near Varian. The boy started digging through it as his uncle hopped back over the edge. So far, Hector had salvaged the picture, Varian’s bow and arrows, his staff, a few books, some clothes, a few of the travel bags they kept packed and ready in case of an emergency, and Quirin’s sword. Everything he found went in a spare chest the princess had graciously provided. Varian placed the new bag with the rest of their supplies, pausing for a moment as he placed the picture on top.

“How much longer?” Cassandra growled, walking over to the princess. “The sooner we get moving, the safer we’ll be. Crazy Rhino Guy may change his mind and still kill us.”

“He has a name,” Varian growled.

“I really couldn’t care.”

He straightened up and pointed at her. “Listen. I get that we all hate each other, but if we’re going to travel together, we could at least try to be peaceable. You don’t see me going around calling you Violent Sword Lady, do you? Or hey, I could always call you Short Hair like Ms. Adira does.”

She smirked. “You call her Ms. Adira?”

He shrugged. “I respect her. I could call her Aunt Adira. Would that make you feel better?”

“I regret saying anything.”

“Get away from him.” Hector stalked over to them with more baggage. “Touch him and die.”

“I didn’t,” she grumbled as she backed off. “Yeesh, you’re as crazy as he is.”

He sneered. “Don’t insult me by acting like I’m not at least twice as crazy. I’m on my best behavior right now.”

Lance looked up from where he was loading the caravan. “This is your best behavior?”

“I haven’t killed you, so yes.” He placed the bags in the chest with the others, his hand lingering over the leather scabbard of Quirin’s sword.

“We’ll get him out,” Adira murmured, seeing his distress. “We’ll bring him back to the Dark Kingdom and place him in the Hall of the Brothers.”

Hector nodded.

“Is that everything?”

“For now. There’s more to salvage, but we need to travel light. We’ll come back later and get the rest.” He held out a piece of cloth to Varian. “Found this.”

Varian took it. The cloak was coated in dust, and it was ripped in several places.

“We’ll patch it up,” Hector offered, sensing his distress. “It won’t be good as new, but we’ll fix it. And I think the queen’s was in one of the bags I grabbed, so there’s that.”

Surprised at the tears filling his eyes, Varian buried his face in the cloak. Grit scratched against his face, and his fists clenched the material tightly.

“Caravan’s ready!” Fitzherbert poked his head out from the inside. “Still smells like it sat in a river overnight, but hey, better than some of the places I’ve stayed in the past. If you two are riding with us, we’ll have to double up on beds.”

Hector grabbed the chest and took it over to the caravan. Varian turned back to the cliff and looked at the remains of the broken Tree. First Old Corona, now this. It was like he was doomed to forever seek new refuge, to never have a home for more than a short while. Or anything, for that matter, if the tattered garment in his hands was any indication.

“Varian?”

Great. What did she want? He turned to the princess, brushing the last few tears from his eyes. “Yes, your highness?”

“You don’t have to call me that,” she insisted.

“Very well, Sundrop.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant. We’re not friends, princess. Do you honestly think just because you saw what I look like now, and are at least trying to make an effort to not act like you despise me, that we’re okay? I know you haven’t forgotten what I did.”

The air seemed to come out of her sails at that. “I know,” she responded. “And I’m still mad at you. But… I don’t know, maybe we can try to get along?”

“We are. You’re not letting Cassandra kill me, and I’m not running away. Seems like we’re doing a lot better than I expected.”

She tilted her head and looked at the cloak in his hands. “Wow. That’s a little… ruined,” she noted in a pathetic attempt to change the subject. “We can get you a new one. I think Eugene has a spare.”

He clutched the material tighter. “I don’t need a new one.”

“But that’s—”

“My dad’s.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “This is one of the only things left I have of him.” He shuddered, and angry words that he had been trying to keep back for too long flooded his mind and escaped his mouth before he could stop them. “So what if it’s ruined? So is everything else of mine you’ve touched. Is it ever going to be enough? How much do you have to take from me? You’ve already destroyed both of my homes. Old Corona, and now the Great Tree. Are you ever going to let me live in peace? Will I ever have a home you don’t rip away from me?”

She threw up her hands defensively, Pascal squeaking from her shoulder. “I didn’t destroy Old Corona! And the Tree was an accident!”

“Didn’t you?” He turned to look at her. “Why did the black rocks come, huh? Because _you_ just had to touch them! Then you did nothing about them. I took the fall. I bore the consequences. And did you have to use that incantation? There were other options!”

“I don’t control the rocks,” she reminded him. “Just once, and that was an accident. And my dad told me he was dealing with them!” She sighed. “…Like he told me he’d get you help. I suppose I should know better than to take what he says at face value.”

“Yeah.”

She reached out a hand to him. He pulled away. “I didn’t mean to destroy the Tree. I’m sorry.”

“You’re apologizing?” Well, it looked like miracles did happen every once in a while.

“Yeah. I knew the incantation was dangerous. I just couldn’t think of another way to save Cassandra.”

“Hm. You know this is the second time you’ve used the Moonstone’s power to stop someone, right? Hey, at least you were actually concerned about her.” He gave her a knowing look. “She’s lucky to have your friendship.”

She winced, picking up on the thinly veiled insult immediately. “Varian—”

“I need to go help Uncle Hector.” He turned back toward the caravan, where Hector most certainly did not need his help. Placing the cloak in the chest, he picked up one end while Hector grabbed the other. They carried it inside and placed it in the corner.

“You okay?” Hector watched him with concern.

He shook his head. “No. But I will be eventually.”

The man nodded. “I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks.” Varian hugged him, letting go a bit sooner than he normally would. His nerves were still tense and probably would be for a while. He mentally fussed at himself for that weakness. He was supposed to be recovering, blast it, and here he was trying to keep from freaking out at physical contact again. Did Cassandra even have a clue the kind of damage she could have on a person? Probably. She more than likely didn’t care. “I’ll go get the animals.”

Outside the caravan, Artemis was glaring at Cassandra’s owl from atop Kubwa’s head. The rhino was chewing on the long grass by the roadside. Riki and Kiki were growling at Ruddiger, who had stolen an apple away from them. The raccoon scampered up Varian’s shoulders and screeched at them. The boy gasped and tried not to flinch. Ruddiger noticed his discomfort and purred softly, hopping off and darting into the caravan.

“C’mon, guys, time to go,” he told the others. The three who had lived at the Tree the longest exchanged miserable looks. “Yeah, I know. I’m sad, too.”

Kiki and Riki brushed up against him as they passed, trying to comfort him, apparently. He stroked their fur and followed them over to the others, stopping to look back once more. The Great Tree, once a proud bulwark and a safe haven, standing boldly against the horizon, was now a shattered hull, a grim testament to Varian’s own instability and inability to find solid ground in the turbulent sea that was his life.

“You coming, brat?” A hand touched his shoulder. Reflexively, he grabbed it and twisted, spinning to pull Cassandra’s arm behind her back. She yelped in surprise. “Ow! Let go!”

He gasped and let go. “Oops.” Then he crossed his arms. “Doesn’t feel good, does it.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t a murderous psychopath, I’d say I’m impressed. So are you coming, or are you going to stand here moping like a child?”

“He’s coming,” Hector growled as he walked over, a glint of mischievous pride in his eyes at Varian’s behavior. “And maybe I wasn’t clear before, so let me reiterate: put your hands on my nephew again _AND I’M GONNA CUT ‘EM OFF!”_ He turned and walked away, Varian following.

He had to jog to keep up with Hector’s long strides. “Nice,” the warrior told him. “You’re getting better every day. Make sure you keep your other hand on her shoulder.” He knelt and boosted the boy onto Kubwa’s back. Adira hopped onto the top of the caravan as the others climbed aboard.

They started moving, plodding on at the horses’ pace, the bearcats playfully running circles around Kubwa. Hector, sitting behind Varian, suggested, “I’ll get some thread from Adira and patch the cloak for you.”

Varian nodded, Kubwa’s rocking motion aggravating his leg. He was sore and achy, and his new injuries protested the move. He pulled one of the books they had salvaged out of his bag on Kubwa’s side and started reading. He needed to get his mind off everything.

Doubtful, as the book he had found was _The Adventures of Flynnigan Rider._

Crap.

O‴O‴O

“We need to talk.”

Hector looked up at Adira. They had been traveling for less than an hour. The lady warrior was giving him a look that said he wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation. Standing up on Kubwa’s back, he jumped over Varian and landed on the roof with his sister. “What?”

“I want to know what happened.”

Hector glanced back over to Varian. “How much can I tell her?”

“Do you trust her?”

He raised his eyebrow at Adira. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Tell her whatever.” He stretched out on the rhino’s back.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Hector hopped down onto the back porch of the caravan. Adira followed. “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning’s a good place.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I need to know. I’ve been working with these people for months, and none of them told me about Quirin. What else don’t I know? What did they do to Varian?”

Hector leaned against one of the posts and slid to the floor. “Back when Quirin was being stubborn—”

“That’s anytime from a year ago to fifty years ago.”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“Sorry.”

Quickly, he explained the promise the princess made to Varian and the result. He told of the rocks, the blizzard, the abandonment and interrogation, the imprisonment and escape, and their nephew’s turn to villainy. He explained the details of the fight and arrest, and he told what happened after (plus or minus a few ugly details).

With every word, her face got darker and colder. Hector knew Adira well, and he knew when something made her killing mad.

She was killing mad now.

Her expression softened as he told of Varian’s rescue. Hector’s voice halted as he detailed what his nephew had been like all those months ago. The frightened, broken, timid child who thought every moment that Hector would leave him. Who ran away to avoid that pain. Who took a leap of faith to trust a man he had known for all of two weeks and tell the painful truth.

Who had started to heal. Who had learned to trust again. Who smiled and laughed and goofed off and occasionally set things on fire. Who make a blasted good hot cocoa, though Hector wouldn’t admit it was as good as his. Who dove into the scrolls and forgot to emerge for food until Hector bribed him.

Who was still only a shell of himself, if Hector had to guess. “I wish I could have seen him then,” he sighed. “Back before they broke him. When he was still…”

“Innocent?”

His lips tightened. “I won’t let them hurt him. Not again. They’ll have to go through me.”

“Both of us.”

“What?” He tilted his head. “I thought you were all about helping your little Sundrop.”

Her eyes narrowed. “My duty to the Sundrop is just that: duty. If she is what you say, then I don’t owe her anything beyond bare aid with the Moonstone. Varian is my nephew too. I promised I’d protect him.”

“Don’t make promises. He doesn’t do well with that word.”

A small smile graced her lips. “You know him well, don’t you?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t ever sit too close to a campfire because it reminds him of the times they’d burn him. He loves ham sandwiches and hot cocoa and working till he drops. He sleeps on his right side so he can see better if anything happens unless he’s around someone he trusts. He talks nonstop if he’s excited, then he stutters and apologizes until I tell him he’s okay. He faints if he sees blood, but he’s a pretty good hunter.” He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t let anything happen to him. It would kill me.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” She crossed her arms and leaned back self-confidently. “I never expected you’d be loyal to something above the Moonstone. You were even willing to kill me for it. But Varian means more to you than it ever could. He’s your everything. I saw how you look at him. You think of him like he’s your own kid, not Quirin’s. You denied yourself everything—love, happiness, a family of your own—all to protect the stone, and now Varian’s the one thing you care about more than that.”

Hector looked back to his boy, who had his eyes closed. “Don’t go to sleep,” he called.

Varian gave him a thumbs-up. The warriors had kept their voices low, so hopefully he hadn’t heard their conversation. The last thing Hector wanted was to dredge up bad memories.

“He… opened my eyes. I thought I had to sacrifice everything to guard the stone. But I didn’t.” He shook his head again. “Even now I’m terrified that I may have to make that choice one day. And I’m afraid I’ll make the wrong decision. I don’t even know what the right decision would be.”

“I think you’ll know when the time comes.” She smirked. “Parents have a way of knowing.”

He groaned and leaned his head against his knees. “I’m not his dad.”

“You love him like you are. And I think you’re doing a great job.”

“I let a tree get dropped on him.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” She shrugged. “Hey, maybe Quirin’s still alive somehow and you won’t have to worry about figuring out how to be a parent to a traumatized child.”

“I already mourned him. I read the final rites. I’d love it if he was alive, but it’s not something I’ll pin my hopes on. And it’d be even harder for Varian to deal with, so don’t suggest that to him. I don’t want him to get hurt again.”

His sister nodded. “I need some time to think all this over.” She stood and started to walk to the edge of the porch. “If the king denies the Sundrop access to the Moonstone, and she tries to take it anyway, I’ll help you fight her.”

“Serious?”

“She’s done enough damage. I won’t let her do any more.”

“Is this because of Varian?”

“Yes.” She turned and flipped back up onto the roof.

Hector slumped against the post. What was happening to him? In six months, he had gone from being a cryptic warrior to being a tired dad figure for a hyper teenager. Was this normal? Is this what Quirin went through? And did he even have the right to try to fill his brother’s shoes? Maybe it was best for him to not even consider that. Varian probably wouldn’t appreciate it, anyway.

He looked back at Varian. The boy’s eyelashes fluttered gently. He smiled over at his uncle.

Footsteps sounded on the wooden floorboards inside the caravan, and the door creaked open right before Varian’s eyes widened in alarm. Hector sighed. “What do you want, lady-in-waiting?”

“To talk.” She sat down against the door. “Is that illegal?”

Varian was still watching them in fright. Next to him, Ruddiger growled. Hector motioned to them to show he was fine. “Not illegal. Just unwelcome.”

She didn’t leave. He groaned. “Fine. What do you want to talk about? You’ve got five seconds to convince me before I kill you.”

“I want the truth.”

“Okay, fine. You’re obnoxious, rude, cruel, and generally unpleasant to be around.”

“Very funny. I _meant_ the truth about Varian.”

“So does everyone else, apparently. The real question is, what are you going to do with it? Ignore it? Argue about it? You already know Varian got abused. You didn’t seem to care.”

She glared. “Look, I won’t sugarcoat it. I hate you. I hate him. But I’ve never seen a kid that looks like that. And maybe you’re all lying and he actually got hurt sometime after escaping. And maybe, just maybe, you’re telling the truth.”

“It’s the sad truth. He looked like that when I found him. Worse, actually. Imagine that but covered in bruises and a lot skinnier.”

“He’s already a twig.”

“Exactly.”

She frowned as she looked over at the child in question. “I’m trying to understand. Corona’s sort of a… cheerful place. Sickeningly so. I just don’t see how this could have happened. How anyone would have allowed it.”

“You tell me. You’re the one who was knocking him around. Don’t think I forgot about that bruise on his face.”

“He did bite me. Although I suppose he was panicking, so I can’t blame him. I’d probably panic too if I was getting arrested to be sent back someplace where I’d been hurt.”

“Now you’re starting to see it. Remember, in great beauty there is also great evil.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Has my sister given you her Drexis talk yet?”

“Yeah, we even met the stupid things.”

He straightened and fixed her with a cold gaze. “Like the Drexis, your kingdom is beautiful to look at. But under the surface, a darkness sleeps. Varian fell prey to that darkness and the people who thrive in it. To the people who cultivate it.”

“Corona’s literally the Sunshine kingdom. How does something like this, this kind of evil, happen in a place of so much… annoying positivity?”

“The same way it’s the exact opposite for the Dark Kingdom. Or was. The king is the only one to set foot in there for many years now. But back when it was alive, the people knew of the Moonstone and the dark power that it contained. But instead of giving in to it, they took every chance to make our kingdom great. They wouldn’t let the stone or its legacy distract from what mattered, so they intentionally made an effort to keep alive the beauty, the true beauty, of the land. The darkness only made them that much more determined to find the light.

“Corona is the opposite. Its people celebrate their kingdom’s beauty because of the light they see. They ignore what’s brewing under the surface in favor of throwing parties and flaunting their goodness. Evil is allowed free reign, as long as it stays out of sight. The people do nothing because they’re so certain Corona’s perfect and that nothing like this could ever happen.”

“That’s…” She rubbed the back of her neck with her good hand. “Intense.”

He nodded. “Sorry to have to break the hard news this way. Better than finding out for yourself like he did.”

“I still don’t get what happened with him. He was so helpful, so nice. A bit accident-prone. Then he snapped and tried to kill me and the queen. Stole the Sundrop flower. Used Rapunzel.”

“You still don’t get it?” He shook his head. “How are you this impossibly daft? You and your pretty little Sundrop abandoned Varian in a blizzard. Let the guards throw him out. Would you have cared if he died? And when the guards held him prisoner for a month unjustly, where were you? Where was she? Yeah, he snapped. He was a fourteen-year-old orphan being kept by force in a house with his father’s encased body and regularly getting the dickens beat out of him. He learned to only rely on himself after that.”

“I didn’t… I guess I didn’t think about it like that. I was so caught up in everything else—making sure Rapunzel was okay, dealing with guard stuff…”

“If you ask me, it’s about time people stopped worrying about if the princess is okay or not and start paying more attention to the people who actually need help. Like orphans who have to run through a snowstorm.”

“Yeah. She’s already told me she doesn’t exactly need me to take care of her, even though it’s _literally_ my job.” She put her hand on her hip. “Are you just saying this so I’ll let my guard down and you can kill her?”

“If I wanted to kill her, I’d do it. No offense, but you won’t exactly be able to stop me. No, I agreed to the terms of the truce. I won’t kill any of you until I get the king’s permission. Unless you try to hurt Varian again.”

Cassandra started to push herself to her feet, struggling with her broken arm. Hector stood and offered a hand. She stared warily for a moment before accepting it and allowing him to help her up.

“I suppose you’ll need time to think things over?” he noted.

“How did you—”

“You and my sister are more alike than either of you care to admit.” He smirked. “Between the two of us, though, you’ve got a long way to go.”

O‴O‴O

They made camp that night, Hector and Varian keeping their distance from the others, along with the animals. Adira joined them after a few minutes of talking to the Sundrop. The princess and her cohorts sat around a fire, chatting cheerfully. Lance tried to invite them over, but Varian shook his head and scootched further away, though he did accept the offered plate with only mild hesitance after sniffing it to make sure it wasn’t drugged.

Something was up with Cassandra. She was abnormally silent, a pensive look across her face. He’d spent a lot of time learning to analyze people, especially when his neck was on the line, so it wasn’t too hard to recognize that something was bothering her, even if he hadn’t known her all that well to begin with. If he dared to talk to her, he might have asked her if she was okay.

“I’ll keep first watch,” Adira offered. Varian was steadily getting used to her presence, though he still wasn’t quite as comfortable with her as he was with Hector. She seemed okay, though. “You two get some rest.”

“How do we know you won’t end us in our sleep?” Hector grumbled.

“I thought you trusted her.” Varian shrank away as if Adira would suddenly turn and kill them. Was she not on their side? Would she let the others take him again? She’d said she would protect him! Maybe she lied.

“I do. I’m still going to complain.”

“I’m used to it,” Adira assured him. “Just like he’s used to hearing me call him a scrawny, flower-spined weasel face. Now get some sleep.”

Varian curled up on his pallet, Ruddiger by his side. If Hector trusted Adira, so would he. “Night, Uncle Hector. Aunt Adira.”

He missed the look the warriors exchanged over his head, as he drifted off.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector checked Varian’s forehead again. “I don’t like this. Adira, can you—” Before he finished, Adira handed him a wet cloth. He placed it on his nephew’s scalding face. “Thanks.” 

“We’re out of fever medicine,” she informed him. “We can treat the infection, but the fever will have to run its course unless we can find or make more.”

They had brought the boy inside the caravan after he’d fallen from Kubwa’s back a few hours earlier. Not two days into their trip and they already had to deal with this.

Hector sat propped up against the wall on one of the bunks, Varian held gently in his arms. The boy alternated between shivering like he was back in that blasted blizzard and thrashing around to get the blankets off him.

Hector didn’t know what to do. Back when they were kids, he’d always been shooed out of the room if his siblings were sick. When they were older, Quirin and Adira still didn’t react quite like Varian was reacting now. And with no medicine to help…

All he was able to do was hold the boy. Fortunately, Varian didn’t seem to mind. Then again, he was out of it at the moment and probably didn’t notice. During his cold spells, he snuggled up against Hector like that was the only thing keeping him warm. Ruddiger huddled next to him, his little raccoon brows knitted in worry.

He hadn’t said anything. Varian had been in pain and hadn’t said one word. Of course he wouldn’t, not in front of the others. He set his jaw and kept moving, ignoring the infected wound on his leg that Hector had somehow failed to treat properly, because to show weakness in front of an enemy was unacceptable. No, he had to keep smiling and pretending to Hector that everything was okay, because even Hector wasn’t enough to help him overcome the feelings of danger that being vulnerable would bring. Not that he blamed him. He’d done a pitiful job of protecting him from them so far. He couldn't even tend to his injuries correctly.

Adira had stepped up for Varian ever since Hector had told her the truth. She hardly ever spoke to the others unless she needed to, and she stayed by their nephew’s side. The two adults still bickered constantly, but they acted peaceable around Varian while he was sick.

“What we need is to get him to a doctor,” Adira suggested.

Varian jerked suddenly, arching his back at a painful angle and trying to struggle out of Hector’s arms. “NO, PLEASE! No, I’m sorry! Don’t, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll be good!”

“Varian!” Hector shook him gently as the raccoon screeched in panic. “V, it’s okay. You’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“No doctor! Please!” Tears streaked down his cheeks.

“’Kay, fine. No doctor. It’s okay. I won’t take you to a doctor. Shh, you’re okay.” He continued to speak gently, making shushing noises until Varian calmed down. He sagged weakly against Hector’s hold.

“What was that?” Adira hissed.

“Don’t know. That one’s new. That word hasn’t come up in conversation since I found him.” His blood was boiling. What had they done to him? What else wasn’t Varian telling him about their abuse?

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He asked if I was a—a _physician_ when we first met. I don’t think he even knew he’d react this way. Maybe fever delirium?”

“Probably didn’t think anything of it when he asked you. Like I said, he was doing better.”

“I might know what the problem is.”

They both looked up at Cassandra, who stood in the doorway. She hunched her shoulders under their intense gaze but continued. “Back when I was a kid, hanging out with the other guards, there was this joke they used to tell to scare me. They said if I misbehaved, they’d get the doctor after me and he’d… he’d make me better. He’d take the bad blood from me.”

Varian started twitching again. He moaned and mumbled something under his breath.

“What?” Hector leaned closer.

“Bad blood… I have bad blood…”

“No. No, kid, you’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with your blood.” An ugly picture was starting to form in his mind. Turning to Cassandra again, he began, “When they said that…”

“I didn’t know what they meant. I asked Dad what they were talking about, and he made them stop. He told me later they meant bloodletting. To literally try to cure someone by draining their ‘bad blood.’ It’s arcane and barbaric. But it’s not done in Corona. Hasn’t been for decades.”

“Well,” he growled. “I think somebody decided to revive the practice.” Fury flooded his veins once more. His nephew—this precious, kind-hearted child who already regretted his actions without them having to tell him he did wrong—had been subject to bloodletting, despite his hemophobia. And there was no way his abusers _didn’t_ know of his fear. Not with the way he had looked back then.

He looked back over at Cassandra. Her mouth was fixed in an angry scowl, but for the first time, it wasn’t directed towards Varian. She turned and stalked off.

“Think she’ll side with Varian if push comes to shove?” Adira asked. “I heard you tell her what happened.”

“Not a chance. She may stay away from him, but she’s not an ally to any of us.” He would want to keep an eye on her. This didn’t bode well for any of them.

O‴O‴O‴

“Here.” Lance came over with a bowl of soup in his hands. He was the only one of the princess’s entourage whom Hector didn’t consider killing every ten seconds. “Think he can eat it?”

He nudged Varian. “You awake, kiddo?”

Varian gave a noncommittal humph. Hector took the bowl with thanks and lifted it to his nephew’s mouth. He managed two swallows before groaning and turning to hide his face in Hector’s chest. He mumbled what might have been a thank you.

Hector pulled the blanket up over him. “I don’t like this,” he grumbled again. “He needs medicine.”

“I might have an idea,” a perky voice interrupted. Hector growled and looked up at the princess, who stood in the doorway between the two sides. “There’s a town near here. West Ipsil. It’s not far out of the way, about a day with the caravan. Maybe they have something there.”

“It’s a plan,” he grumbled. “Fine. Just get us there.”

O‴O‴O

Not only did the princess decide to go to town to fetch medicine; she also decided they’d take a break to travel with an old friend to a music gig the next day. Hookfoot’s brother, apparently. No wonder it had taken them so long to get to the Great Tree in the first place, given their complete inability to avoid every detour possible. Varian was too tired to care, though it bothered him that he couldn’t muster up any energy. All he could do was lay still and try to ignore the aching of his feverish body, trusting that Hector would deal with any situation that arose. He was in no condition to defend himself.

Currently, he sat up against the warrior’s chest, letting the medicine work while he read. Hector was offering helpful pointers over his shoulder.

“’Kay. What did Flynn Rider do wrong right there?”

“A reverse dagger grip. Aesthetically pleasing, but impractical.”

“Could you two stop it?” Fitzherbert grumbled from across the caravan. He had chosen to ride with them, as he apparently had a rocky history with the princess’s old acquaintance. That meant he was subjected to the two of them ripping the Flynn Rider books.

“Nope. Why is it impractical?”

Varian grinned weakly at Fitzherbert’s dismayed expression. “It’s too easy to block, and it doesn’t do much damage if one does actually manage to get a hit in.

“You guys are impossible.” He held a pillow over his head.

Varian laughed, though it made his chest ache. He fell into a coughing spell, Hector holding his arms to support him. Tears pricked at the boy’s eyes as he shuddered, feeling like fire was shooting through his lungs.

“Take it easy, kid,” Hector ordered as his breath returned. “Need to rest?”

“’M fine.” He picked up the book from where it had fallen in his lap.

Adira stepped inside. “We’re arriving. I assume you two want to stay here?”

Hector nodded.

“Fine. I’ll bring you some cake. The gig’s a wedding. Come on, Fishskin.”

Fitzherbert grumbled but followed her. Varian turned back to his book.

“Give the happy couple my congrats,” Hector called after them.

O‴O‴O‴

The others returned later that day, the princess gushing cheerily about… seals? And a dance-off? Hector decided he didn’t want to know.

“So Hookfoot’s no longer with us,” Cassandra noted.

Varian gasped slightly. Hector looked up at the others. “My condolences.”

“What? No!” The princess exclaimed. “He’s okay! He’s just traveling with Hookhand, that’s all. They’re going _on tour_!” She squealed happily.

Varian and Hector shared a skeptical look. “Dare I ask?” the boy muttered.

“Hookhand plays the piano, and Hookfoot dances!”

“This is great and all,” Cassandra drawled, “but we really do need to be moving.” She stalked out, and the caravan started rolling a moment later.

Lance came over to where they sat. “Good news is, we don’t have to double up on bunks anymore! Though I will miss that man. How you doing, Hairstripe?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, sorry.” The princess and Fitzherbert had joined Cassandra up front, and the old man had fallen asleep, so that left only Lance and Adira. The warrior lady sat on the edge of the bed.

“Did you bring cake?” Hector asked.

“Nope. It was made of fish. And King Trevor fell in it. I did bring back some shrimp, though.” She handed her brother a plate.

Ruddiger chittered happily and attempted to snatch the seafood. Hector held the plate out of reach but handed him a few shrimp. “Why would a wedding cake—”

“Seal wedding.”

“I regret asking.”

O‴O‴O‴

“Check it out!”

Varian groaned and sat up. His head was throbbing, though his fever had finally broken. Next to him, Hector grumbled.

“Can’t let us sleep for more than five minutes, can they?” he growled. “You were up all night coughing. Go back to sleep. I’ll deal with them.” He shifted Varian to gently lay his head on the pillow rather than the warrior’s arm and stood. Varian shivered as the source of heat disappeared and curled into the warm space he had left behind. Ruddiger snuggled up against his back. In the distance, he could hear Hector fussing at the princess for waking them up and did she “have to be so blasted cheery at seven in the morning with sick people right next door?”

“Morning.”

Varian growled and pulled the blanket up over his head. Lance was undeterred, however, and tapped on his arm. “You need to take your medicine.”

Varian rolled over and took the vial. At least this stuff tasted better than Uncle Hector’s sludge, even if it was much less effective. He drank it and handed the vial back with mumbled thanks, dimly aware that he wasn’t supposed to be alone with any of the others.

“Can we talk?” Lance asked, sitting on the edge of the bunk.

Reluctantly giving up on any chance of getting back to sleep, he nodded.

“I want to know what happened. You didn’t get to tell me the other day because Hector sort of snatched you.”

“Coffee first,” he grumbled. “Then talking.”

“Right! Give me one second.” He stepped outside for a few moments. It hadn’t taken Varian too long to figure out who was the one to go to for this. While he waited, he pushed his bone-weary frame off the bed—Ruddiger hissed as he moved and buried himself under the blankets—and stumbled over to the chest, retrieving some of the root Aunt Adira had given him and chewing on it.

He noted with interest it no longer bothered him to think of calling her that.

Lance returned with a fresh cup of coffee and sat next to Varian as he climbed back under the covers, nudging Ruddiger aside. The boy set the remainder of the root down—he’d brush his teeth properly later; coffee was more important at the moment—and took the cup. After a cautious sip, he looked up at the man, having noticed him staring at his scarred bare feet as he walked over. “What do you want to know?”

Lance shrugged. “I want to know what really happened. Cassandra said she thought it was bandits, but I think that option’s out the window. You said they abused you?”

“Yeah.” He left it at that.

“Look,” Lance sighed. “I’m not some pampered palace pet. I mean, not that the others are, but I’ve been around the block a few times. You? You look like you ran face-first into the block. And then got run over by the block. Then got buried under—”

“Okay, I get it. I’m ugly.”

“No! That’s not—I just meant you don’t look like a normal fourteen-year-old is supposed to look.”

“Fifteen. I was fourteen when they did this.”

“Point still stands. You’re just a little kid.”

“What did you expect?” He lowered the cup. “I attacked the royal family. Kidnapped the queen. Stole the Sundrop flower. Did you really think they’d go easy on me? The king hates me. Yeah, he tortured me. Or had them torture me, I mean. He wouldn’t dirty his own hands that way.”

Hector stalked back into the room. “Go back to bed.”

“Can’t. Had coffee.”

He stared daggers into Lance. “You gave him coffee? He needs to sleep!”

Lance stuttered defensively.

Hector rolled his eyes. “Fine. Breakfast?”

“Sure.” Varian stood and almost fell. Hector caught him.

“I’m going hunting. Adira’s here. Stay with her. The others are outside making pancakes. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He left, taking Riki and leaving Kiki to guard Varian. Ruddiger screeched happily at the mention of pancakes and followed him.

“Soo…” Lance muttered.

“If one more person says ‘so,’ I’m going to scream.” His expression softened. “Sorry, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Everything. What I did. It wasn’t your business, but you ended up getting involved, and you could have been hurt, and I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m so sorry… I hurt so many people… and you’re so nice, and you don’t act like you hate me, even though you could, because I hurt your friends—”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo!” Lance held up his hands. “Apology accepted. And I forgive you.”

“Y—you do?”

“Yeah. You said it. You paid for what you did. And I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Really? B-but you’re fr-friends with the princess!”

“Can’t I be your friend, too? And between us, I don’t think she’ll hold it against you either. Not if the two of you talk it out.”

“Yeah, that didn’t go so well last time. We don’t exactly understand each other. And she’s still mad at me for what I did, and I’d apologize, but—” He sighed. “I don’t know, ‘kay? She hurt me, too. And I tried to tell her, but she just keeps saying she didn’t or that it was my fault. I’m… I’m afraid. If I apologize to her, I’m afraid she’ll just leave me to suffer. Again. I’m afraid she’ll let Cassandra hurt me, or just pretend she’s perfectly innocent and I’m the only one who messed up. I’m afraid I’ll forget that I had a right to be mad at her. I’m afraid I’ll just end up back under her control, and I can’t do that; I can’t go back to being her _tool_! And I can’t go back to prison!” He ran his hands through his hair, missing the feel of his goggles even after a year.

“Hey, easy, easy!” Lance made to touch Varian’s shoulder but wisely stopped. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

Varian sat on the edge of the bunk. “Am I a monster? Why can’t I apologize? Why am I not strong enough?”

“Hey, don’t think of it like that. Just think of it like… like you’re getting ready. Mentally preparing yourself. That’s not a bad thing. It’s okay to take time. And it’s okay to be afraid, as long as you don’t let your fear define you. Be bigger than your fear.”

“I… don’t know how. I wish I could just talk to her! I don’t want to be mad at her. I tried that once, and all it did was hurt me. I just want to move on. Stop holding grudges.”

“Maybe you can just talk to her!”

“What?” Was he crazy?

“Let me help. Maybe the two of you just need a chance to _actually_ talk. On even ground, not while you’re tied up.”

“Do you think that would work? She hates me. And she’s got Cassandra.” He hunched his shoulders.

“We can fix that! All you two need is an opportunity.”

“I… don’t know.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Yes, it very much could!” He sighed. “Just give me some time to think about it.”

“No problem! Now come on. There’s a plate of pancakes with your name on it.”

O‴O‴O‴

“I can’t do this.” He’d been thinking about it for a day and had finally prepared himself to talk to her now that his illness was starting to abate, but he was losing his nerve.

“You don’t have to,” Adira assured him, having agreed to accompany him since Hector was a bit… overprotective and would likely kill either or both of the girls. He’d griped about it endlessly, though. “If you’re not ready, you can wait.”

“No, I—I need to. I’m ready. I think. No, I’m not.” Varian turned to run.

Lance blocked his path. “We won’t make you do this, but don’t sell yourself short. Adira and I will be right there.”

He turned back to look at the girls, who had gone exploring. They were standing in the middle of what looked like a ruined, abandoned town. A lone cart stood upright, which they were examining. With a deep breath, he started down the hill towards them…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to remind myself that not every chapter has to be perfect. I wasn't fully satisfied with this, but I'm tired of looking at it.
> 
> The reference to Varian sleeping on his blind side was a reference to whoever mentioned that Zuko in ATLA only sleeps on his unscarred side if he's around people he knows and trusts and sleeps on his scarred side to hear better if he's not, so credit to the person that noticed it first.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	20. What Once Was Mine, pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt at conversation ends badly. Hector has to deal with the fallout. Rapunzel says dumb things (she'll get a clue eventually)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this artwork by @wallywestfest on Tumblr! (https://wallywestfest.tumblr.com/post/639050344129773568/a-scene-inspired-by-an-awesome-fic-blood-of-my) So good!!!

Someone was yelling. Actually, several someones. He blinked in confusion and looked up at the mid-afternoon sky, squinting in the bright light. Where was he? Hadn't he been inside just a few minutes ago?

A shadow crossed his eyes, and he caught sight of a fuzzy face an inch from his own. He gasped and pushed himself to a seated position, looking around in confusion. The creature fell from his chest with a startled squeak.

“Varian!”

He yelped in surprise and jumped back from the figure at his side. Others stood nearby, watching him with varied looks of concern. He whipped his head around, trying to understand the situation. Why were they all staring at him?

And who were they?

“Little guy! Speak to us! Don’t go into the light!” a bald man exclaimed in distress.

“Lance, he’s not dying,” a pale woman grumbled.

“Varian, talk to me. You okay?” The man next to him hovered anxiously.

“Umm…” He stumbled to his feet. The man reached out a hand to steady him. “What’s going on? Who are you people?”

“What?” A tall woman, her long hair twisted up into an elaborate braid with gold bands, asked. “Varian, it’s us.”

“He can’t remember,” another woman said. She, too, had long hair, though hers was golden and in a simpler braid adorned with flowers. “The wand. He literally doesn’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, have we met?” His eyes widened. Long, golden hair in a braid, trailing down to her ankles… he knew her! “Forgive my bad manners, your highness!” He knelt politely.

Her mouth dropped in a surprised O. “Varian, that’s… you don’t have to do that. You recognize me?”

“Uh, how could I not? I mean, look at your hair!” He couldn’t believe it! The _actual_ Princess Rapunzel of Corona was here! Talking to him! And she knew his name?! He jumped up and bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“You know, didn’t you say that’s what he said the first time you two met?” a brunet man noted. Varian gasped as a name sprang up to match the face.

“Hey! You’re Flynn Rider!” He darted in a circle around the man. “I recognize you from your wanted posters! You know, they really don’t do your nose justice.”

“I’ve been saying that for years!” Flynn Rider threw his hands up in frustration. “I mean, how hard is it—wait a minute, off topic. That’s just a pseudonym.”

“I’ve read every book about you!”

“Again. Not my name. It’s Eugene.”

“Eugene?” He looked the man over curiously. “Okay. Eugene. Nice to meet you! I’m Varian!” He started walking again, not seeing the broken board by his feet until he tripped over it. The man who had been next to him when he woke up reached out and snagged him as he fell. ‘Oh, thanks! You’re quick. Wh—wait…” His hand came up to his face. “My—my eye! I can’t see! What—”

“Easy, kid,” the man said, kneeling down to be on eye level. “Stay calm.”

“STAY CALM I CAN’T SEE OUT OF MY EYE!” His breathing quickened. “What—why?” He pawed at his face as if he could remove whatever was blocking it. “No!”

“Varian.” The man gently grabbed his wrists with one hand, pulling them down away from his face, taking his face in his other hand and turning him to look at him. His eyes were a piercing yellow. “Stay. Calm. You’ll be okay. We can explain.” He turned back to the others. “One of you explain. What the crap happened?”

The pale woman who had fussed at the man named Lance held up a stick.

The man’s breathing deepened. Without warning, he released Varian and sprang at the woman. He was intercepted by the tall lady with white hair. She grabbed his arms. “Stop, brother!”

“She did this!” He tried to wrestle away from her, but she held on.

“This isn’t the time. We have more important things to worry about.” She nodded her head back at Varian. The man sighed and stopped struggling.

Varian ran his hands through his hair in panicked confusion, noting then a particular absence. “Hey, whe-where are—Where are my goggles? And _what_ am I wearing?” He looked down at his outfit in confusion. Thin gloves took the place of the thick leather he was accustomed to. A long-sleeved gray tunic, a leather belt with a dagger at his hip, black pants, black leather boots, and arm guards gave him the appearance of a fighter rather than an alchemist. A maroon cloak completed the ensemble, the hood trimmed with gray fur and clasped with a strange circular symbol with three slash marks. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the material had been ripped and repaired in several places. “Could someone _please_ tell me what’s going on? Where are we? Who are you people? I mean, I recognize a few of you, but how do you know me? And _why am I blind on one eye_?”

“Umm… it was—it was the boilers!” The princess nodded, while the yellow-eyed man stared at her in disbelief. “Yep. Your boilers in the tunnels under Old Corona. They blew up.”

“Oh. Oh, no, that—that’s bad. How? The margin of error was less than .56 percent! Or—or wait, was it .57? Oh, my dad’s probably worried sick!” Dad always worried when his projects messed up. If the boilers exploded… And he’d also have to deal with what that meant for Old Corona! The place was probably a wreck now! And the villagers would be furious… “Where is he, anyway? Where are we? So was I too close to the explosion or something? Is that what happened to my eye? And what am I wearing? Why can’t I remember anything?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “You were too close. And you can’t remember anything because... you hit your head! But! We’re going to help you get your memories back!”

“How?”

The pale woman held up a book. “There’s a cure in here. It can fix you.” She glanced nervously at the two tall warrior-looking people as if trying to convince them instead of him.

“Okay. So like an alchemical solution or something?” He grinned. “I can do that! What’s it say?” He took the book and flipped through the pages. “Oh—oh, wow, that’s a lot of ingredients. We can do this, though! To the lab! Wait, where’s my lab? Where are we?”

“Not Old Corona,” the pale woman scoffed. Then she flinched under the gaze of the warriors. “I mean, we… had to leave. It’s been a while since the explosion. We’re not in Corona right now. That’s why you’re wearing new clothes, too! You need good adventure clothes, right?”

“I suppose. So who are you people again? And why did we leave? And if I didn’t hit my head in the explosion, what happened?”

The yellow-eyed man knelt down next to him again. He was taller than even Quirin, Varian noticed. Keeling down, he was still on eye level with the alchemist. “Name’s Hector. And this is Adira.” He pointed to the white-haired woman. “We’re your dad’s siblings.”

“Really? He never said anything about family. Why wouldn’t he have told me about you guys?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t one for talking a lot. Not about us.” By his feet, the creature chittered angrily. Varian recognized it as a raccoon, probably the same one who had been trying to sneak into his lab for months. “Right. And this is Ruddiger.”

The princess stepped forward. “Well, you already know me. This is Eugene, Cassandra, and Lance. And I think Shorty’s back at the caravan. We… we’re on an adventure! That’s fun, right?”

“I guess?”

“Yeah! And you came with us because you’re a scientist. We needed someone with your intelligence.”

“So where’s my dad?”

The warriors shared a strained look and glared back at the princess. The tall woman started to answer, “He’s not—”

“He’s back in Corona,” the princess interrupted. “Waiting on us! That’s where we’re going!”

“He let me come by myself?” Varian grinned. He wished he could remember! His dad trusted him enough to let him go off with the princess and her friends! He must have made him proud somehow. And he had more family?

Unless he didn’t, and Hector was lying.

His eyes widened. His dad would have told him if he had family, wouldn’t he? He was secretive, yes, but why would Quirin hide this from him? Especially if he trusted the two of them to take him on an adventure? It didn’t make sense.

His blood ran cold. For all he knew, they were all lying!

Only one way to find out. He needed that memory cure.

O‴O‴O‴

“What the _crap_ were you thinking?” Hector fought the urge to rip the princess’s little blonde head right off her shoulders. Varian was chatting excitedly with “Flynn Rider,” who looked rather perplexed. His nephew’s smile was as big as he’d ever seen it, untainted by memories of being abandoned by a man he looked up to. “You couldn’t just tell him the truth?”

She held up her hands defensively. “I panicked! What was I supposed to say? That he’s blind because apparently my dad tortured him, and also he hates our guts?”

“You should have told him the truth.” He fought to bring his temper under control. “There is no way this ends well. When he gets his memories back, he’s going to realize you lied to him. And how do you think he’s going to react?”

Her face blanched.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, he came out here _specifically_ to try to talk to you and work things out. And you just betrayed his trust for the second time. So you’d better figure out how to fix this before I have to pick up the pieces _again!_ ” He turned and stalked off.

Adira came up behind him. “I think Varian suspects something.”

“What makes you say so?” He looked over at his nephew, who was petting Ruddiger. The raccoon had reclaimed his place on his boy’s shoulders. Varian still looked confused about the fact that he had a pet raccoon, but he seemed to be happy with it. As Hector watched, he skipped up to Cassandra and started asking her about her owl. Hector had to fight the urge to stomp over there and separate the two. Varian didn’t know to be wary of her, and he didn’t know she hated him.

“He looks at us like he doesn’t trust us.”

“He doesn’t know us.” But he watched Varian closely. The child glanced back their way, and a flicker of doubt crossed his features before being replaced by a controlled smile. “Crap, I think you’re right.”

“I always am.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be better once he’s back to normal.” He gasped and darted over to Varian, who had fallen into a coughing spell. He caught him right as he started to drop listlessly to the ground, scooping him up into his arms. Ruddiger leaped onto Hector’s shoulders, staring down at his boy in concern. “Right, back to the caravan with you.”

“I’m fine,” Varian rasped, looking mildly startled to be held by the warrior. Hector remembered with a start that Varian was once again unused to this kind of behavior. At least it wasn’t as bad as his touch aversion. Just unfamiliarity.

“Too bad. You need to rest. You’re sick.” He stalked back to the caravan with his unwilling passenger. The bearcats, Artemis, and Kubwa looked up in surprise as they came over. Artemis, ever the protective one, screeched unhappily at the sight of her boy lying there weakly.

As soon as he saw the animals, Varian scrambled out of Hector’s arms. “Whoa! Are those binturongs? And where did you get a rhinoceros? Rhinos are herbivores, right? I can’t remember. Omnivores? Oh, wow, is that a hawk? Is it yours?”

“Inside.” He opened the door and motioned for Varian to enter. This was just like the Great Tree all over again. If Varian hadn’t had his memory erased, this might have almost been adorable. “Straight to bed, mister. I’m heading out to collect the ingredients for the cure.”

“I’m not tired! Can’t I help?”

“Bed.” He nudged the boy towards his bunk, unfastening his cloak and draping it over a chair. “I’ll do the collecting. You can do the making later.”

“Yes sir.” He kicked his boots off, hopped into the bed, and pulled the blankets up. Hector caught Ruddiger as the raccoon jumped off his shoulder towards the bed.

“Nope. He needs space tonight, rat. He doesn’t remember you.”

“Does he usually stay with me?” Varian asked.

“Yeah. You two are basically attached at the hip.”

“Oh, he can stay, then. I don’t mind!” He grinned as Hector let go of the rodent—sorry, mammal; Varian corrected him on that all the time—and he hopped onto the bed, curling up next to his boy. “He’s so cute!” He scratched the raccoon behind the ears, and Ruddiger let out a contented purr.

“He’s a spoiled pig. Word to the wise, watch your food around that thing. He will take it.” Without thinking, he reached over to pull Varian’s blanket further up and ruffle his hair. “Get some sleep.”

Varian’s eyes widened in surprise, and he smiled gently. “Good night. Well, it’s not night, but—”

“Yeah, I get it. Go to bed already.” He turned to go.

“Mr. Hector?”

He tried not to flinch at that. Varian hadn’t called him that in months. “Yeah, kid?”

“How long have we known each other?”

“’Bout six months. Why?”

“What were they like? Those months?”

“They were…” He sighed. “Interesting. Weird. But good.”

“How did we meet?”

Aaaand that was a whole story he didn’t want to recount. Especially not while the princess was filling his nephew’s head with lies. “I could tell you, or you could wait until we get that cure.”

“Yes sir.” He curled up with Ruddiger and closed his eyes. Hector pulled the curtains over the windows and stepped outside.

When Varian got the cure, he was going to be devastated. Again. And Hector would have to be there for him, just like he always was. And neither the princess nor her handmaiden would get anywhere near him ever again if the warrior had his way.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian waited for a few minutes after Hector left then tossed back the covers and stood. The raccoon—Ruddiger—chittered unhappily. “Sorry, little guy. I have to know what’s going on.” He opened the door and came face to face with one of the bearcats. The creature nudged him back inside gently and shut the door. “Oookay, and I’ve got a bodyguard.”

Why would Hector have left the bearcat to guard the door? Did he not trust Varian? Was this a part of his lie, and he didn’t want him snooping around and figuring things out?

Varian didn’t like feeling cooped up. He never had. The only place he was okay staying for long periods of time was his lab. He checked the back door and found the second bearcat sitting right outside it. Thinking quickly, he turned to the window and found it blocked by the tough hide of the rhino.

Panic flooded his mind. He was being held prisoner! Why? What did Hector want from him? Did the princess know? Was she involved? Or had she believed Hector about him being Quirin’s brother?

Too many questions, no answers. Trying to calm the beating of his heart and ignoring the anxious screeches from the raccoon, he tore through the caravan, trying to find paper. He found it in the form of a Flynn Rider book. His name was inside the front cover. This was one from home, then.

“Hey, buddy, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a pencil, would you?” he asked the raccoon. Ruddiger’s eyes lit up, and he darted over to a chest and started scrabbling at the lid. Varian opened it, and the creature slipped inside, emerging with a pencil. “Great! Thanks.”

In the back of the book, he started writing his questions. Who were Hector and Adira, and what did they want with him? Why were they holding him prisoner? Why was he out here with the princess and her friends? Where was his dad, and why had Quirin let him come by himself? Was he okay? Where were Varian’s alchemy clothes, and why was he dressed like a fighter? What was the strange symbol on his clothes that matched the one on Hector’s cloak and Adira’s belt?

Who could he trust?

A thorough search of the caravan revealed few answers. His alchemy supplies were nowhere to be seen. Why would the princess have brough him if not to do alchemy? Why would he have left it behind? His goggles and normal gloves were absent, as well as any notes he might have made on… what were they out here for? No one had said. He had forgotten to ask, too overwhelmed with whatever was going on here.

In frustration, he wrapped his arms around himself tightly. Something was very wrong here. Nothing was adding up. Someone was lying, probably everyone. But why? Why weren’t they being honest with him about what their nefarious purposes were? Why lie to him if he was already doing what they wanted, as evidenced by his outfit change?

His fingers, clenched tightly on his upper arms, brushed up against _something_ through the material of his sleeves. In confusion, he pulled off one glove to feel better. There, under his shirt, it felt like…

He hissed in shock and pulled the shirt off, staring in shock at what was revealed underneath. Nausea set his head spinning chaotically, and the remains of whatever the last thing he had eaten was threatened to resurface. His vision danced hypnotically, blurring and wavering. Maybe that was affecting him, right? Because there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

A tug on his pant leg. A soft chittering. A furry body pressing against him, nudging him back to the bed. He collapsed on it numbly laying on his back. Holding his arms above his head, he pulled the other glove off, staring at the lines that crossed both hands.

Ruddiger hopped onto the bed beside him, pressing into his side. He dropped his (scarred) hand down to the creature, stroking his soft fur. Ruddiger purred comfortingly, the sensation tickling Varian’s (scarred) abdomen. The boy turned over, wrapping (scarred) arms around him.

Had this all happened in the boiler explosion? Was it shrapnel wounds? Did his dad know? If he did, there was no way he’d have let Varian out of his sight! His eyes dropped down to one of his arms, where several parallel lines stood out against his skin. Too uniform. Too even.

Too planned.

Someone had done this.

Fighting back the bile in his throat, he examined the scars carefully. Some of them were obviously chemical. From the flynnoleum, maybe, when the machines blew up. The rest… they looked like either shrapnel injuries or… or weapons. Maybe something to do with why he was dressed the way he was? Had he been in a fight? Had someone attacked him?

Had Hector or Adira? Maybe the tough-looking woman with the princess? He didn’t like the way she looked at him. But Hector wouldn’t have hurt him, right? He was nice! He worried when Varian got a cough and made him go to sleep and messed with his hair. Or was that all part of his act?

He couldn’t afford to feel safe around these people, not until he got his memories back. The only person who could offer safety was his dad. As soon as they got back to Old Corona, everything would be okay. He was sure of it.

O‴O‴O‴

“I think that’s everything.” Hector placed the last of the ingredients in a pile. Even with the others helping, it had taken most of the afternoon to collect everything, and the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. He avoided the princess and her group, convinced he’d end them if given half a chance. Adira stayed by his side, helping him find what they needed and keep a reign on his temper.

“We can start making it now,” Her Royal Snake-tongue stated cheerily. Hector hadn’t asked who was responsible for the situation in the first place, and he didn’t really care. Until now, he hadn’t said one word to them since giving them their list of ingredients. When Varian was cured, he’d talk to him. Until then, the only thing on his mind was getting the cure made.

He thought of Varian, lying there asleep in the caravan, and smiled despite himself. His wide-eyed nephew, who stood next to an uncomfortable Cassandra bravely and talked to her like he’d talk to anyone, who grinned and excitedly declared his intentions to perform alchemy again, who chatted eagerly about the Flynn Rider books without any bitterness about or towards the man who had stolen the name. He was an explosion, a spitfire with no hesitation, an innocent child unmarred by memories of his criminal past or the people who had hurt him so badly.

And Hector was about to take all that away.

In place of those wide eyes, Varian would return to the cautiously watchful gaze he typically held, eyes darting around at the princess’s group as if preparing for an attack. His confidence that allowed him to speak to the handmaid easily would crumble under her stare, and he’d tense up and snap at her when she got close. His love of alchemy would fade, and he would be forced to live with the knowledge that his passion had become an instrument of his torture. Flynn Rider would once again be the name of a man who had let him down. He would be the shadow Hector had been protecting all this time, flickering dimly in the harsh, beaming light of the Sundrop.

“I was thinking,” the princess began.

“You were?” Adira raised an eyebrow sharply. “I’m impressed.”

She blinked in surprise, apparently not expecting that from Adira, of all people. “Okay. That wasn’t necessary. But anyway, I was thinking about Varian.”

“Heh. It’s a double miracle,” Hector shot back.

“Could you just let her finish?” Fitzherbert snapped, crossing his arms in a way that was probably meant to look intimidating but failed.

“I was wondering,” the princess continued, “Is giving this to him for the best?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hector’s lips tightened in a scowl. Sure, he wanted Varian to be his normal cheerful self, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice the last year of his nephew’s life and everything that had happened since then. Varian was hurt, but Hector wasn’t going to be the one to lie to him and manipulate him. No, it was best if his nephew knew the truth, as painful as it was.

“I mean, he’s happy, right? If we give him this cure, he’ll be… back to the way he was. So what if we didn’t? What if we let him stay this way? And maybe use this opportunity to help redeem him?”

Hector’s eyes narrowed, and his breathing quickened. “’Redeem’ him?”

She nodded cheerily. “We can tell him the truth a little at a time as he’s ready so he’ll stay good this time! He won’t turn on us because he’ll see we’re trying to do the right thing.”

“You mean you’re going to tell him about all the things he did wrong and why he needs to see the error of his ways and be on your side again? I think the crap not.”

“I kind of agree with Hector,” Cassandra added. He turned to look in surprise, but she continued, “We can’t just tell him what he did and expect him to get it. He needs to remember.”

A metallic _schink_ pierced the night as Hector’s blade slid from concealment. He launched himself through the air at the two women with a snarl, only to be intercepted and tacked to the ground by Adira. She twisted his arm behind his back and kneeled on top of him. “Use your words, brother.”

“They don’t listen to words!”

“They can’t listen to words if you cut their heads off.”

He growled but stopped fighting. She stood and pulled him to his feet. He brushed himself off and glared at the women. “Varian doesn’t need you to redeem him. He’s not the same person he was. You had _nothing_ to do with that. It was all him.” He shook his head and retracted his sword. “He doesn’t need you or anyone else to tell him what he already knows. Or knew. Or will know. Whatever.”

“Does he know it?” Cassandra gave him a side-glare. “He still seems pretty antagonistic to me.”

“And you’re a little antagonistic to him,” Adira responded. “I’d’ve thought since my brother explained Varian’s situation to you that you’d be a bit less hasty to jump to conclusions. Varian’s not like he was then. He’s learned to be better. Just because he hasn’t fallen down at her highness’s feet and begged for her forgiveness doesn’t mean he’s a villain still.”

“Whose side are you on? If you’re trying to convince us to trust you, defending Varian’s not the way to do it.”

“I don’t need you to trust me. I only need the princess to trust me.”

Cassandra looked at the princess in frustration. The blonde drew back and wrapped her arms around herself. “I trust you, Adira,” she answered. “But I can’t forget what Varian did.”

“That’s fair. He hasn’t forgotten what you did either. The difference is that Varian’s willing to admit to what he did. He’s determined not to be like that anymore. Have you changed your ways?”

Hector watched in shock as his sister vehemently defended their nephew. He knew she cared for Varian, but he never expected her to call out the princess like that! Not when her entire plan relied on the Sundrop’s help.

The princess held up her hands. “I don’t know what you expect me to say! No, I didn’t help Varian after the storm. And maybe that was wrong of me. But that doesn’t give him a right to try to kill my family! I have good reason to be mad at him!”

“And he has good reason to be mad at you,” Hector retorted. “No one’s saying he did the right thing. We’re just saying he’s not that kid anymore. I’ve had him for six months. I don’t see the kid you see. I see the kid who wants to do better, who takes opportunity to keep anyone else from being hurt by the rocks. He’s a good kid. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not true. So no. We’re curing him, and you ain’t gonna say one more word about him needing to be ‘redeemed.’ Clear?”

None of them answered.

“I’ll go get Varian,” he grumbled, trying to keep his rage from showing on his face. “I said he could help.” Turning back to the caravan, he petted Riki and cracked the door open. “Varian? You awake?”

The boy mumbled something and sat up. His hair fell in front of his eye, and he shook his head in confusion for a moment. Pushing up his bangs with his hands, his expression changed to one of panic for a brief moment upon seeing Hector before switching to that careful smile again. “Hi,” he yawned.

Hector plastered a smile on his face. “Time to make the cure. Want to help?”

That got his attention. He shot out of bed, throwing his shoes on and racing for the door. Hector snatched up the cloak and draped it around the boy’s shoulders. “Get that around you. You need to stay warm.”

“What am I sick with?”

“You’re coming off a fever, and you got a bad cough. Don’t need you passing out.” He picked up the raccoon and dropped him into Varian’s arms. “Come on. Let’s get you cured, huh?”

Varian darted out the door like his tail was on fire. Hector sighed, knowing that enthusiasm was about to be curved. That light in his eyes was about to be snuffed out. He hated it, but this was for the best. It wasn’t fair to steal away a year of life and replace it with false happiness and promises of friendship. If Varian got close to the princess again, he’d get hurt. And Hector wasn’t going to let the Sundrop burn him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Hector go an entire evening while waiting on the cure to keep from murdering Raps and Cass? We'll see...
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	21. What Once Was Mine, pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no clue what's going on, Varian tries to find out who to trust. But no one seems to be telling the full truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: attempted murder (It's Hector; what did we expect?)

Varian frowned as he looked over the recipe. “So it says here that once we make it, we have to let it simmer overnight,” he grumbled. “Well, it is what it is. Let’s get started!”

“Sorry, Varian,” the princess said. “I know you were excited about this.”

“It’s fine. Just one more night.” He looked at the cauldron over the fire. “Shall we get started?”

Her smile looked a little too forced as she agreed. Varian was nervous. Was this actually a memory cure, or was this another one of their lies? Maybe a poison? No, he didn’t think they wanted him dead. They’d’ve done it already. But they wouldn’t give his memories back if they were lying to him!

“Right!” Lance exclaimed. “Let’s get this potion made!”

“Serum,” Varian corrected. “Or cure, if you prefer. ‘Potion’ sounds like magic. I don’t believe in magic. No, I am a man of science!” he placed his hand against his chest dramatically. “Although the recipe does mention a Wand of Oblivium. Don’t know what that is, but it sounds like magic. Are you sure this is going to fix memory loss from a head injury?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Cassandra insisted. “Does it matter if the cause of memory loss is magical or physical?”

“Probably, but it’s not like we have any better options, so I suppose we’ll try this. And I don’t believe in magic—”

“Really? I’m shocked.”

“So it’s probably just a generic memory cure. Right, now I need my equipment. Could one of you run and grab it, please?”

He watched their faces carefully. The princess and her crew didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Hector and Adira, however, shared a knowing look that he didn’t like. Hector stepped forward. “Do you need it?”

“I’d like it. I lost half my vision in an explosion. I don’t want to take any chances. Where are my goggles?”

They looked at each other again. “We don’t have them,” Hector continued. “Haven’t for the whole trip.”

“Why don’t I have my goggles? What about the rest of my stuff?”

“You don’t do alchemy right now.” At Hector’s words, Varian saw the princess’s eyes widened. “Not since the… _incident_.”

“Why would I stop? It’s not like I haven’t had ‘incidents’ in the past. Alchemy is my life! What did you guys bring me for if I don’t do that anymore?”

“You’re brilliant,” the princess interjected. “Just because you don’t do alchemy doesn’t mean you don’t do other stuff.”

Varian frowned but turned back to the cauldron. “Okay. I’ll just be careful, then. It’ll probably be fine.” He was more certain than ever. A little explosion would have never kept him from doing what he loved. Not even if it cost him his eye.

So where was his stuff?

O‴O‴O‴

Varian suspected them.

That much was obvious. The way his eyes darted around suspiciously, the way he intentionally chose targeted questions, the way his voice held a false camaraderie as he chatted with the others, thinly concealing a tone of distrust. Maybe the princess’s group hadn’t noticed, but to Hector, it was as obvious as the sun rising.

Varian tossed the ingredients one by one into the cauldron, measuring them carefully as he did and ordering the others about without so much as a by-your-leave. He was in his element now, and they snapped to attention to follow his orders.

The princess came over to Hector. “Why doesn’t he do alchemy anymore?” she whispered. “That was kind of his whole thing.”

He shook his head. “He’s not just an alchemist. Maybe if you’d stop trying to fit him into a little box, you’d see that. He hasn’t done alchemy the whole time I’ve known him.”

“Do you know why?”

“Yep.”

“… Are you going to tell me?”

“Nope.” He cut a side glare. “It’s his story to tell. If he chooses not to say, that’s his business. And may I say, I admire your ability to lie to him so easily. If it gets cold, we’ll wait till your skirt catches on fire.”

She humphed and turned back to the makeshift lab, where Varian was fussing at Lance.

“I said _don’t touch anything!_ ” he growled. “And what did you do?”

“I touched it,” he muttered, wilting under the glare of the tiny child. “Sorry.”

“Well, now we need a new one. And because I can’t trust you to mess with it, I’ll have to go get it myself.”

“What’s the matter?” Hector came up behind Varian and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Lance _ate_ the storm swallow egg!”

“I was hungry!”

“Yeah, and I’ve got no memory of what, the last year? Year and a half? You can be hungry for a minute while I make this.”

“I’ll go get another one,” Fitzherbert offered. “I got the first one. I know where they are.”

“Cool. I’ll come with you.”

“Not by yourself,” Hector growled. “Me or Adira one is coming. I don’t want you by yourself.”

“I won’t be by myself. Fly—Eugene’ll be with me.”

“Even worse.”

“Is there something wrong with him? Because if not, I don’t see why all of us have to go.” Varian handed the book to Cassandra. “Mind finishing this, m’lady? The ingredients don’t have to be in order.”

“What did you call me?” she choked out. “Y—whatever. Just go.” She buried her face in the book, but Hector didn’t miss her grimace. Varian and Fitzherbert turned to go. As they walked off, Hector snapped and motioned for Riki to follow, noting with interest that Varian had ordered Ruddiger to stay behind. Varian turned and gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Lance said as soon as they were gone. “We’ve got maybe five minutes. What’s up with Varian?”

“You ate the egg on purpose, didn’t you?” Cassandra growled. Lance smirked and pulled it out of his pocket.

“He doesn’t trust us. I knew he’d demand to go get it himself.”

“And if he hadn’t?”

“I’d’ve found another way. Seriously, we’ve got to talk.”

Hector crossed his arms. “Yeah, he knows we’re lying. Well, some of us. Problem is, we can’t back down now. We tell him the truth, he won’t take that potion. Not if you guys are telling him to. And he doesn’t trust me and Adira now. I hate it, but for now, the less we say, the better.”

“What do we do about it?” the princess asked. “If he refuses to take the potion because he thinks we’re trying to poison him or something, how do we get his memories back?”

“Oh, now you want to?”

She twisted her hair uncomfortably. “Maybe I was a bit overeager to suggest keeping him this way. Sorry. But you’re right; he does seem to be doing better. I don’t trust him still, but I won’t say he can’t be better. Fair?”

“As fair as it can be, I suppose. And I know he wanted to talk things out with you, but after this, I really don’t want you two around each other. Never did, but especially not now. And now that we’ve got time, one of you tell me how this happened.”

The girls looked at each other awkwardly. “Well…” Cassandra began…

O‴O‴O‴

“Okay, so why exactly did you have to come with me?” Eugene asked. “I mean, you were busy and I could have just gotten it myself. Not that I’m not _thrilled_ to have you with me, of course, just… seriously, why did you come?”

Varian cast a skeptical look towards the watchful red eyes of his guard. He hadn’t known Hector was going to get the bearcat to tag along, and there was no way he was having this conversation in front of a spy. But the fact that Hector didn’t trust him alone with Eugene was more proof that the man was lying and the others didn’t know. Otherwise he could have just let Eugene guard him.

He thought quickly. There had to be a way to talk to him without the risk of word making its way back to Hector. He gasped as an idea hit him. “Can you keep a secret?”

Eugene laughed nervously. “Secret? Kid, this man is a vault!”

Varian raised an eyebrow, not encouraged at all. “I’m worried. This feels way too much like Landon’s role in _Flynn Rider and the Lost Treasure of Scotia_ when he and Flynn first met.”

_I’m surrounded by enemies and don’t know who to trust._

Eugene’s eyes widened as he picked up on the clue. “I see. Well, have you considered Lady Lucy and her mother in _The Silver Isle?_ ”

_People are lying to protect you._

Varian frowned. “It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

He looked around skeptically again. How to explain this? Seeing this, the bearcat huffed and trudged off to watch them from a distance, giving them space to talk. Unsure how good binturongs’ hearing was, Varian kept his voice low. “Nothing’s making sense! My dad wouldn’t lie to me about family. Why wouldn’t he tell me about Hector and Adira? And why would I stop doing alchemy? What did you bring me for? Why am I dressed like this? And why… why am I covered in scars? They’re not shrapnel wounds. These are intentional. What’s really going on here?”

“Kid, I really do think you’re overreacting!”

“Do you think Hector and Adira are related to me? They don’t look anything like my dad!”

He held up his hands. “Look, just finish up the cure. It’ll all make sense after that. You just have to be patient! And yeah, from what I hear, Hector and Adira are sort of unofficial family. Not blood related.”

Varian scowled. So then Eugene did believe them. “Can you at least tell me why I look like I got run over by a plow?”

“Eh, that’s a no. I’m not having this conversation with you. Hector would literally kill me. I’m not exaggerating. He’s a little… protective.”

“Possessive?”

“That’s one way to describe it. But you’re reading this the wrong way! He’s not out to get you. He’s done nothing but watch out for you.”

Varian fiddled with the symbol on his cloak. “Maybe you’re right. I’m probably just being paranoid. Anyway, let’s get that egg!” He fixed a fake grin on his face and kept walking.

Eugene definitely believed Hector, then. Varian was pretty good at reading people, if he so humbly said so, and this one probably had no clue Hector was lying. Hector didn’t seem to trust him either, judging by his reluctance to let Varian go with him. Unfortunately, that meant Eugene was probably the most trustworthy one here. Besides, if he was a Flynn Rider fan, he was probably okay.

O‴O‴O‴

They made their way back to the fire to find Hector looking furious and the girls looking terrified. Eugene immediately went to stand in front of them, and Varian hung back awkwardly.

“What’s going on here?” the brunet demanded. “I thought we had a truce!”

Adira, who stood in front of Hector to keep him from attacking, snapped, “A truce is only good as long as both sides work to keep it. Hector and I are doing our part. Keep your side in line, princess, and we’ll be fine.”

“I told you, it was an accident!” the princess exclaimed.

“Convenient.” Hector struggled to get away from Adira, but she kept a hand on his arm. “As accidents go, this one was awfully beneficial for you, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not trying to take advantage of him,” she insisted.

“Really? Because it sounds like that’s exactly what you’re doing!”

Lance stepped in between the two groups. “Hey, they’re back! So let’s get that po—serum made, huh? I think the little guy’s ready to get his memories back. Right?”

Varian watched the scene in shock. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Let’s get back to work. How far did you get?”

“Almost done,” Cassandra answered, a strained tone to her voice. “We got to the pine sap.”

Varian set back to work over the cauldron again. The two sides stood on opposite sides of the fire, watching each other warily. Varian didn’t know what they had been discussing, but this seemed like a bad time to ask. He finished up and gave the mixture one last stir. “Okay, I think it’s done! Now all that’s left is to let it sit. We can take turns watching tonight to make sure nothing happens to it.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘you,’ not ‘we,’” Hector corrected. “You, mister, are going to bed, and you’re going to stay there.”

“I feel fine! I don’t even feel sick anymore. And I slept most of the afternoon anyway!”

“Don’t care. Go back to the caravan and go to bed.”

“Aww, let him stay,” Lance pleaded. “It’s not cold out. We can all sleep around the fire!”

“And we can tell stories!” the princess added.

Hector groaned. “This isn’t a camping trip, princess. This is a truce. Don’t pretend it’s more than it is.”

“It can’t hurt, can it?” Varian asked, crossing his arms. “What are you worried about? I’m not coughing anymore, and Lance was right; it’s warm out tonight.”

Blue eyes (eye; whatever) met yellow in a test of wills. Varian knew Hector suspected something, but he wouldn’t cause a scene. Probably. It was hard to tell with him. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword. It was Adira who broke it.

“It probably won’t hurt,” she said softly. “Hector, it’s not a big deal.”

His eyes narrowed, and he glared at his sister briefly before nodding. “Fine. But he doesn’t keep watch. He needs to sleep.” With that, he stalked back to the caravan and returned bearing blankets and pillows. Varian tried to let himself relax. Out in the open, with everyone around, it was probably safer.

He hoped so, at least.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector stared into the fire, watching the flames leap and tag each other in their childlike dance. If Adira wasn’t keeping watch, he wouldn’t dare look at the fire this way; he’d keep his eyes fixed on the darkness, adjusted and ready for an attack.

The others sat around talking cheerily. Varian, Lance, and Fitzherbert were discussing the Flynn Rider books, and it appeared his nephew was once more certain that those books were an accurate description of proper fighting techniques. Hector hoped this cure worked; if not, he’d have to teach him everything all over again.

It was bittersweet, seeing him like this. His face lit up with excitement, and he grinned wildly, showing off his little buck teeth, one of which was chipped just slightly. Maybe from prison, maybe from one of his experiments. With a gasp of outrage, he quickly corrected Fitzherbert on a quote from the book, and the man howled dramatically and flopped over as if dead.

Every once in a while, though, he’d look over at Hector and Adira, and that momentary flash of distrust would dart across his features before being replaced by that aggravating neutrality. He had to admit, the kid’s expression was good; if he could get it on his face quicker, he’d make a pretty good spy.

The fact that Varian trusted the others over his family hurt. Where had Hector gone wrong? What had he done? What had he said? Had he somehow betrayed this innocent, wide-eyed boy who had no memories of the scars of his past? Had he somehow struck a nerve in him, something that his mind would not let him remember? A word, a motion, anything that had forced him to recall those horrible days?

Had it been their talk about alchemy?

Hector gritted his teeth. That had to be it. To tell a child who adored the science that he no longer performed it would have made him skeptical at best. But how else was he supposed to explain the lack of equipment? Lie?

And that was the heart of his frustration. The princess and her friends had lied and earned his trust. Hector had told the truth and was now watched like a dangerous animal. If it were only a matter of the two of them, Hector wouldn’t care. If push came to shove, he was sure he could convince his boy of his honesty; he had the first time, after all, when Varian had even less reason to trust him. No, it was that he was so quick to trust _them_ , the people who had taken his trust before and stepped on it. And once Varian got the potion, he would see their lies and be broken all over again.

“Hey, princess?” Varian turned to the blonde with that curious tilt to his head.

She smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Please, call me Rapunzel!”

Hector tensed. What was she doing? She didn’t like him well enough to let him call her that, did she? Red flooded his vision as it clicked with him. She was trying to act like Varian’s friend so he’d react better when he learned the truth! So he wouldn’t be mad because he’d still have at least a day’s worth of good memories with her. When Hector told her to figure it out, pretending to be his friend wasn’t what he had meant! This was only going to make it worse. How did she not see that?

“Really? Oh, okay!” Varian shared none of his concerns. How could he? He didn’t understand her deception. “Well, Rapunzel, what exactly is our mission? No one explained that yet.”

“Oh. Are you sure you don’t just want to wait until tomorrow morning and take the poti—serum?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? If I’m going to figure it out anyway, what’s the harm in telling me now?” He crossed his arms.

The princess was in a corner and she knew it. With fake enthusiasm, she explained, “We’re following the black rocks to their source.” She pointed over to the path near the caravan. “They’re leading us to the Dark Kingdom.”

Varian’s head tilted, and his gaze narrowed. Hector tried to figure what had set him off, but his innocent expression returned, and he asked, “What’s the Dark Kingdom?”

Hector rolled his eyes, unable to hide a grin. “The Dark Kingdom is a kingdom. It’s dark.” His sister whacked the back of his head.

“The Dark Kingdom is the home of the Moonstone,” Adira informed him. “That’s what created the rocks. The princess is the Sundrop, the counterpart to the Moonstone. That’s what made her hair grow like that.”

“So what am I doing here if I’m not doing alchemy?” Varian stood and walked over to the black rock path. “Oh, wow, this is fascinating! I’d love to study their alchemical composition!”

Slight panic skittered across the other’s faces. Hector winced. The princess continued, “You were translating a scroll for us. The Demanitus scroll.”

“The _Demanitus_ scroll?” he gasped in amazement. “That’s… as in Lord Demanitus, the alchemist and engineer who fought Zhan Tiri? Some people say he was magical, but personally, I don’t believe that. All magic is just science. Which is why I am very curious about your hair!” He paced behind her and examined the long braid. “Have I studied this yet?”

“Yep!” Her smile widened, and the panic in her eyes grew. “Back when we first met.”

“Oh. What did I come up with?”

“Not sure,” Fitzherbert interjected. “Your little machine thingy got destroyed when the boilers blew up.”

“Ah.” He crossed back over to Fitzherbert and Lance and sat down.

Hector looked up at the sky. “Right, bedtime. I’ve got first watch.” He motioned to a pallet he’d set up for the kid. “Get some sleep. It’s past time you were in bed.”

Varian gave a mock pout. “You’re not my dad.” He looked around. “Speaking of, is anyone going to explain why he’s not here? What did he say when you two came to Old Corona?”

“We… didn’t speak to him,” Hector admitted. “Haven’t in years, actually.”

“Neither of you?”

Both he and Adira shook their heads. “We joined the princess’s group a little after,” Adira explained.

“Quirin… he didn’t come,” Hector added. “But he’d be proud of you.”

“Y-you think so?”

“I know so. Now go to bed.”

Varian fidgeted uncomfortably. He whispered something to Fitzherbert, who nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. Then the boy climbed under the blankets and turned over—onto his right side, Hector noted.

Turning away from the fire, he stared out at the darkening night. Just a few more hours. Then everything would be back to normal. Or as normal as things ever were around them. By morning, Varian would be… broken again.

He used a rag to polish his blade as the night passed slowly, too slowly, flecking away nonexistent specks of dirt. The metal gleamed in the starlight, and he tilted the blade to reflect his eyes. It seemed impossible that it had been less than a week ago that he had seen his reflection in the sword of his sister as he attempted to kill the very people he was now traveling with. That he was letting his nephew travel with. That had stolen his memories and replaced them with false hopes—

He spun and grabbed the extended arm behind him, twisting to throw the man to the ground. Fitzherbert started to yell in surprise, but Hector’s hand clamped over his mouth. “What the crap! You got a death wish or something?”

Fitzherbert mumbled something behind Hector’s palm. He rolled his eyes and yanked the man to his feet with one hand. “ _Oww._ ”

“Talk.”

“It’s Varian.”

Hector sat on the log and motioned for him to continue, resuming polishing his sword.

Fitzherbert joined him and explained, “I figured it’s only fair to tell you he doesn’t trust you.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Do you have anything useful to add?”

“Before he went to sleep, he asked me to stay up and keep watch on you to make sure you didn’t do anything.”

“And you’re telling me? You’re a horrible spy.”

“Look, I just thought you had a right to know, okay? Right now he trusts me because I’m… I dunno, Flynn Rider or something. Not that I’ve done anything to earn his trust, but that’s why he went with me to get the egg. He wanted to ask me about you and why he’s all… you know.”

“Scarred? Say it. He’s scarred.”

“Okay. Scarred. Happy?”

“No.”

Fitzherbert groaned and put his head in his hands. “I’m trying here, okay?” He looked up at the warrior. “So I bet you’re struggling with this a little bit.”

“Which part, specifically?”

“The fact that your nephew trusts us over you. That’s gotta sting a little.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “This isn’t about my emotional state. I’ll be fine. I see the bigger picture here. What I’m upset about is the fact that he chose to trust the people who hurt him so badly in the first place and have done nothing but hurt him since.”

“We’re not—”

“He still has a handprint on his face.” Hector’s eyes narrowed in cold anger.

“Right, yeah, Cassandra’s a little… ice demon-y. But in her defense, last time they saw each other, he tried to kill her.”

“Yeah, yeah, he told me all about that. Told me all the bad he did before he even said you guys abandoned him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, where his scar crossed. “The kid’s pretty tore up inside about what he did. Do me a favor and don’t make this harder on him, ‘kay? He didn’t go off ranting about all the stuff you did wrong. Just kept telling me about how he didn’t deserve my help because he was a horrible person. But you guys weren’t much better, leaving an orphan alone like that after he begged for help. Letting him get beat by the royal guard day in and day out before he did anything wrong. And I can’t help but wonder if he expected his hero Flynn Rider to rush to the rescue. You are the princess’s boyfriend, after all, so she would have told you he needed help. Can you blame me for being worried you’ll let him down again?”

Something settled in the man’s dark eyes, something sad and unpleasant and…regretful. “I suppose not,” he murmured. “Blondie told me how he said he waited for her. About the guards interrogating him. I guess I can’t blame him for snapping if they hurt him like you said. But he shouldn’t have—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, he knows. Trust me. There’s nothing you can hold against him he doesn’t already hate himself for. Just—I’m trying to help him heal. He’s doing better. Don’t set him back again. Don’t force him to relive his dark past when all he wants to do is leave it behind.”

Fitzherbert ran a hand through his hair. Hector supposed that meant he was pretty upset, considering how much time the man spent grooming himself. “Wow. I don’t know, I guess I thought that he was still… like that.”

“He’s not.” Hector rolled his eyes. “Yeesh, when did I become a therapist for you jerks? This is what happens when I’m not allowed to kill people.”

“Yeah, no, you just have to make them see your way, huh?”

“Do you now?”

He shrugged. “A little bit, I think. Better than before. I’m still mad, but maybe I’ll try to talk to him later. See what he was going through back then. I get what it is to be an orphan who thinks crime is the only option, so… I’ll try to be nicer. How’s that sound?”

“Not as horrible of a decision as you could have made, so I’ll let you live for now.” He rubbed the sword one last time with the rag and held it up to examine it.

Fitzherbert drew back slightly. “I appreciate that. And for the record, he’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Hector bit back a nasty comment about how he was one of the only ones who was willing to be the person Varian needed and instead responded, “Thanks.” He looked back over to where his nephew lay.

Or was supposed to be laying.

Varian’s pallet was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's going through Varian's mind?
> 
> Fun trivia fact I meant to mention in the last chapter and forgot; it was a toss-up to see if Varian or Hector got their memory erased. Hector would have gone back to before he met Varian and assumed he was an enemy like the others. This would have been very bad for Varian's mental state, so I suppose it's good I chose the alternative. This is at least slightly better.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	22. What Once Was Mine, pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hector and the others must face a Varian that is drastically different from who he knows and eerily similar to who the gang remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to listen to "Ready As I'll Ever Be" on a loop for an hour and a half just to get into Varian's head for this chapter. That's what I get for writing someone who's smarter than me.
> 
> This chapter was a disaster to write, and it took about four rewrites and polishes to get it correct. Enjoy.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Panicking, piranhas, warfare a la Varian

His breaths came in short gasps as he tore through the woods, trying to see through the darkness and the tears. It didn’t help that one entire eye was useless. He yelped as a branch struck the right side of his face.

The moon lit his way as he emerged into a clearing. He stopped for a moment to gain his bearings. Judging from the way the caravan had been facing, off towards the west, going east was his best choice. Old Corona couldn’t be that far away, could it? Maybe a few weeks? If it was any longer, he’d have to get a new plan. He didn’t know how long he could hide from these people, especially if the bearcats or the warriors were good trackers. And Eugene—the rotten traitor—definitely was, given his history as the infamous Flynn Rider.

He put a hand over his mouth to stifle a cough. His chest ached like crazy; him being sick was at least one thing Hector hadn’t lied about. Listening back the way he had come, he heard nothing. Maybe they hadn’t noticed him gone yet, but it wouldn’t be long. Hector was too watchful. The best Varian could do was get as much distance between them as possible and find a place to hide. Taking exactly 2.4 seconds to rest, he started running again.

Why had he been foolish enough to trust Eugene? Of course they were all on the same side! He’d been deceived by their supposed “truce” and the fact that Hector and Adira didn’t seem to like the others. Why had he taken that to mean the others were any better?

Their lies, of which he’d kept a growing list, had been too obvious to ignore, yet he had anyways. Why? Because of some sense of friendship with a man who read the same books? Because a princess seemed to have faith in his talents? He’d seen the way they looked at him. They didn’t trust him. At times, they almost looked _afraid_ of him. Why? Had his explosion scared them that much? Why had they brought him, then?

It had all been too much. He couldn’t take listening to their lies and waiting to see what they did to him with that serum. He had to get away before it was finished. In hopes that maybe he was wrong, he’d given Eugene one last test—asking him to keep watch on Hector—and the man had betrayed him. Told Hector exactly what Varian had said.

That’s when he’d run.

He brushed tears out of his eyes as he ran. There was no doubting it now; they were all in league with each other. And all of them wanted something from him. The only person whose arms he could flee to for safety was his dad; thus, his desperate need to get to Old Corona as soon as possible. Quirin would fix this. He always did.

O‴O‴O‴

“VARIAN!” Hector’s sword slashed through the branches in front of him as he ran. “Varian, talk to me! Where are you?”

How had he been so stupid? He’d seen the way Varian looked at him. He didn’t trust him. Why, in the name of all that was good and holy, had he taken his eyes off the kid? Why had he turned his back and let him have a chance to run? _Again?_

He tried to still his panicking mind. There were no Coronan guards around this time—unless he counted the handmaiden—so they didn’t have to worry about him getting snatched up like the last time he’d run away. All they had to do was find him and—what? What were they supposed to do then? There was no way Varian would listen to anything they said after this. And they still had a few hours before the cure was ready.

Guards or no, though, this was Westrabbit Woods. There was an abundance of wild creatures that would easily snatch up a small child. Boars, wolves, the occasional bear, any number of threats that would steal the boy away in the night and leave no trace for the hunters to find. Hector shoved the unpleasant thought from his mind and kept searching.

The princess and her friends had spread out as well, calling for Varian. Hector had ordered Kubwa to stay with the caravan in case the boy circled around. Kiki and Riki were sniffing around for a scent, but Varian was clever; they’d lost the trail at a creek, and the bearcats had split, one going upstream and one going downstream. Ruddiger sat on Hector’s shoulder, whining softly.

Hector felt bad for the rat. Last time Varian had run, he had taken Ruddiger with him; this time, even the raccoon was viewed with skepticism and fear—a potential spy, a danger, in league with Hector. The warrior had found the raccoon still asleep on Varian’s pallet, as the kid moved like a ghost. But without Ruddiger, that meant he was all alone out there somewhere.

A cry from Artemis changed his direction. She swooped overhead, dropping low before climbing back above the trees and moving to the right. He followed her as she swung in a circle, crossing the creek again. Varian was headed back the way they had come, or close to it. Clever kid, crossing the stream to make the bearcats lose his scent. Hector whistled for Kiki to follow him and Riki back upstream.

Varian was good, he had to admit. But he’d forgotten all the training he’d gotten from Hector, so following his trail wasn’t too hard. An indented patch of grass, a wet footprint on a rock, a scrap of fabric on a thorn bush. The trail twisted and turned, as Varian had tried everything he could think of to throw his pursuers. It wasn’t enough, though, and Hector was gaining on him.

He emerged into a clearing in time to see Varian dart around the edge of a wooden structure. In surprise, he realized that this was the very same place where his nephew had woken up with no memory. Following the boy, he called, “Varian! Look, I’m not going to hurt you. Just talk to me, huh?” At the edge of the clearing, the others appeared, apparently led here by the handmaid’s bird. At his motions, they split up and circled the clearing.

“Varian?” Adira pleaded. “Just come out! You’re safe.”

The sound of shuffling came from behind the apothecary cart. A small figure started to step out, something clenched tightly in his hands. Hector took a step forward but stopped at a cry from Lance.

“Look out!”

He dove aside as Varian threw the item. It exploded next to him in a shower of green sparks.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian wasn’t stupid. He knew he would never outrun his pursuers. And outsmarting them was probably out of the question as well, given that most of them looked to be experienced hunters. And fighting them was the quickest way to get killed. That left him with no good options and no plan. The only way he could get away was to fight them on his terms. And for that, he needed alchemy.

Thus, the apothecary cart. Maybe there was something in there he could use. If he could sneak back past the others, he could find chemicals or compounds that could give him an advantage.

He waited until they were far enough away from the caravan that his pursuers would be slightly spread apart from each other. Then he found a creek, ran upstream, and started back the way he had come. He reached the clearing and dove behind the cart right as Hector stepped into his line of sight. The others weren’t far behind, and they started circling the clearing.

Varian rooted through the cart. There had to be something here he could use! Most of the contents were just weird potions. Instant snow, hair dye, other useless junk. A drawer near the top revealed what he needed. Raw chemicals.

It took mere seconds to whip up what he needed. Ideally, he’d have more of a selection to work with, but he could make do. He shoved the vials in his pockets as he worked. Lance started to come closer, now in sight around the corner but still at a distance Varian didn’t think he could hit him at. He looked around the other corner. Hector was getting closer. Grabbing one of his vials, he threw it just as Lance screamed for Hector to look out.

The man dove aside, and Varian immediately whipped around and threw a second one at Lance as he charged forward. His aim was off just slightly, and the bomb exploded on the man’s left foot, pink goo gluing him to the ground. He took off running again, past the trapped man, tossing more bombs at the others who rushed him. A stun bomb struck the ground near Rapunzel and Eugene, and they stopped short. Before he could deal with Cassandra, though, she reached him and grabbed his arm.

An unusual flash of panic struck him, and he kicked her ankle. He felt mildly guilty—she did have a broken arm, after all—but he shoved the feeling down and ran. Behind him, he heard a growl of rage. Expecting it to be Hector mad at him, he was surprised to hear the man yell, “I _told_ you not to touch him!”

Adira leaped into his path, and he threw another stun bomb at her. It exploded against her arm, knocking her to the ground. He leaped over her and kept running, ignoring the sound of her calling for him to wait. Then he disappeared into the trees again.

Time to get to work.

O‴O‴O‴

The pursuers, minus Lance, were quick to follow Varian. “Right,” Hector growled to Fitzherbert as they ran. “You know more about his alchemy than I do. What do we need to know?”

“You’re asking me?” he responded in surprise. “I dunno, don’t get hit with it? The pink stuff glues you in place, and I’ve never seen that stun bomb thing before. My ears are still ringing.” It had only stopped him and the princess for a few seconds, and Adira hadn’t been affected at all, but a solid hit with one could give Varian a chance to disappear again. “Oh, and he might be able to make fog. I don’t know what he’s got with him.”

“Remember, we’re dealing with a strategist,” Rapunzel added from off to his other side. “He manipulated all of us the day of the fight. He knows what we’ll do before we even know, and he plans for it.”

Hector bit back a snarky comment and responded, “Fine. Then let’s do something he won’t anticipate.”

“Like what?”

He stopped running. “Varian’s scared because we’re chasing him. So let’s stop.”

“But then he’ll disappear,” Adira reminded him.

“Nope. Varian’s curious. If there’s even a slight chance the potion we made can cure him, he’ll try to get it. So we go back, pretend we don’t care if he runs.” On his shoulder, the raccoon chittered unhappily at the plan.

Cassandra huffed. “What if you’re wrong? It’s not the first time someone thought they could outsmart the brat and ended up looking like an idiot. What if he takes off and gets eaten or something?”

“Would you care?”

“You would.”

Hector glared at her. “Unlike the rest of you, I actually took time to get to know my nephew. If there’s one thing he wants, it’s answers. Of course, right now he wants to get back to his dad even more. Only one problem; his dad’s dead. But he doesn’t know that. And the best way he can get away from us and get to Old Corona is for him to know what exactly’s going on. And that means getting the cure. Besides, I’ll have Artemis keep an eye on him. He’ll be fine.” He turned to go back to the caravan then stopped as a thought struck him. “By the way, when he comes, no one touches him. You can try to head him off, but only me or Adira touches him, ‘kay?”

“If he’s going to come for the cure,” Adira asked, “and we want him to take it, why do we have to catch him?”

“Because it’s not ready yet, and if he takes it too early, he won’t remember anything. We need to catch him and convince him to wait there with us.”

“Fair enough.”

The others followed him back to the caravan. Owl and Artemis took to the skies. Rapunzel left to see if she could free Lance, telling Eugene to stay and see if he could get through to Varian. Doubtful. Hector hopped up onto the roof and stretched out. They probably had a few minutes before Varian got there. Maybe he could catch a nap, because Heaven knows catching a kid wasn’t working. Not yet, at least. Should he put a ham sandwich and some hot cocoa by the fire?

The time passed slowly, agonizingly so. He hadn’t been this impatient since his first overnight mission decades ago. Being without Varian was getting to him. He was so used to the kid’s presence that to be away from him now felt wrong. How long had it been? An hour? Two?

Varian was coming, wasn’t he?

He sighed as Adira hopped up to join him. “Yes, sister?”

She laid down next to him and took his hand. He glanced over at her in surprise. “We’ll find him,” she said softly. “And I wanted to say sorry. I was supposed to be watching him. I let both of you down.”

“Not your fault. You didn’t steal his memories.”

“I should have stopped this. I’m sorry.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “When we get him back, you can tell him.”

“What do you think this is going to do to him?”

“I… don’t know. Whatever it does, we’ll get him through it. We’re his family. It’s our job.” Strange to think of their family as being three people now instead of two. Adira had always been his sister, but Varian had been his immediate family for six months. It was nice having her back, and even nicer that she cared about their nephew.

A scream came from off to one side. Hector gasped and threw himself from the roof, preparing to charge into the woods, but a hand grabbed his arm. He whirled around to see Fitzherbert next to him.

“Don’t,” the man warned. “I think it’s a trap.”

“Oh, really? Because to me, it sounds like a _kid screaming!_ ”

Fitzherbert shook his head. “He wants you to think he’s in danger. This is just like _Flynn Rider and the Emperor’s Gambit._ He screams to draw you off in one direction, but he circles around and comes in from the other side. Trust me. I’ve used it myself.”

Hector stuck his sword at the man’s throat. “Trust you? No thanks. I’d rather not end up under house arrest waiting on someone who isn’t coming. You think it’s a trap, stay here. I’ll go get him myself. Adira, stay here in case he does come back.” With that, he turned and stormed off.

He reached the edge of the woods and tore in with no hesitation. Two minutes, three minutes... How far away had the noise come from? Varian could be in severe danger. He could be facing up against a wild creature, and he didn’t have any weapons—although he did have his alchemy again, as strange as that was—

Or he could be back at the clearing already, judging by the sounds of screaming now coming from that direction and Artemis’s call above him. Crap. If Fitzherbert was right, he’d never hear the end of it. The bird couldn’t have warned him a minute earlier? And yeesh, did the kid move fast!

He shot back the way he had come, stopping to stare for a second at the sight of Adira, Fitzherbert, the handmaid, Kubwa, and both of the bearcats glued to the ground. Max and Fidella were both unconscious. The caravan was split in half, and both sides were lying on the ground. Ruddiger sat on a log, free but chittering angrily at the child, who was holding a vial—how many of those did he have?—full of the potion.

Varian gasped as he looked up. Hector started forward but was brought to an abrupt stop as a rope tightened around his ankle and yanked him off his feet. He gave an undignified yelp and sliced the rope, dropping back down to the ground and landing in a crouch. Varian’s eyes widened in fear, and Hector quickly sheathed the blade.

“Varian, please talk to me! We can figure this out.”

“No!” He prepared to throw one of the bombs. “I can’t trust you. You’re a liar!”

“Varian—”

A sharp gasp caused both of them to look to the princess, who had just arrived at the clearing. Varian’s brow furrowed, and he backed up, staring between the two uncertainly. He reached towards his pocket only to stop in horror.

This was his last bomb, then.

And he had a choice to make.

Much to Hector’s surprise, he turned to throw the concoction at the princess. But he had made a small miscalculation—forgetting about his bad side—and as he stepped to the right, he tripped over the old man, who had fallen asleep near the fire. Had he been conscious for any of this? Hector couldn’t remember seeing him. The bomb flew from Varian’s hand and shattered uselessly against the ground.

“No!” The boy scrambled to his feet and started running again. Ruddiger scampered after him.

Hector immediately regretted making him work cardio. He ran after the kid, the princess following them. He’d tolerate her presence for now if she helped him get his kid back.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

“Not a clue. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Really?”

He spared a glare in her direction. “You really think he’s the same kid he was when you knew him? This is a whole different Varian from who I know. You’re more used to this side of him.” He slowed his pace to let her keep up.

“Okay. So he clearly knew we’d go back to the caravan, and he was ready for that. But he’s out of alchemy now. He probably won’t go back to the cart since he knows we know he’s out. My guess is he’ll set traps for us.”

“Does he have time?”

“He’s surprisingly good at this. Last time, he only had a few days, and he built an army of automatons—There!” She pointed to where a tiny figure darted through the woods. “If we can get to an open space, I can use my hair to lasso him!”

Hector gritted his teeth but nodded. It was, unfortunately, a better alternative than just chasing him like this. They kept running after the boy, getting closer and closer…

“Now!”

At Hector’s order, the princess yanked her hair out of its beaded bands and threw it at Varian. It snagged him around the waist, jerking him to a stop. He turned to them in a panic.

Then a cold smile crossed his face.

Crap.

He charged straight back towards them, turning off a few yards away to scramble into a nearby tree. He disappeared into the branches, taking the makeshift rope with him. The princess yelped and tried to tug herself free as Varian dropped to the ground, gave a mock bow, and kept running.

“Go get him!” the blonde exclaimed. “I’ll deal with this!”

He handed her a knife. “In case of wild animals,” he growled. “And I’ll want that back.”

She nodded, and he kept going. Varian was good, he had to give him that. Using their strengths against them. The princess’s hair, his own determination to go after him and leave the caravan… he didn’t know what had happened back in the clearing when he left, but it hadn’t been good for the others. His fellow hunters were falling around him, and he was almost afraid to see what the clever kid had come up with for him. That snare back at the campsite wasn’t his only plan, that was for certain.

O‴O‴O‴

The thrill of solving a problem was better than any food or drink, if Varian was being honest. That feeling of getting an answer, of setting one’s mind to work and not stopping until achieving a goal often kept him up at night, more important than sleep. It fueled him now, keeping him wide awake, making him forget his terror as his plans fell into place one by one.

Of course the serum was a trap, but he didn’t care. He knew they’d be waiting for them, but he did need that cure (if it was actually a cure). It was the only way he’d get out of here and back to Old Corona, especially since he had no idea where “here” was. And knowing they knew he needed it, he’d taken the time to set some traps.

Ideally, he’d have gone back to the apothecary cart to get more alchemy, but the other man was still there, and he’d yell for the others before Varian could shut him up. He’d have to make do without it. He readied the vines he’d brought with him and slipped up into a tree at the edge of the clearing. He’d learned to use traps and snares back in Old Corona; and, while he preferred to use his alchemical traps since they were more humane, he’d picked up on what Quirin had taught him and memorized it. The traps for later were already prepared out in the forest.

He used his cloak to sound further away than he was and gave a pained scream into the fabric. Hector, naturally, shot up and started to run after him, but Eugene put a hand on his arm and warned him that it was a trick. Hector didn’t listen, however, and took off in the direction he’d heard the scream from. As soon as he was gone, Varian set the snare for him. The fake Flynn Rider was watching and waiting for an attack on the other side of the clearing, convinced he was using the ploy from _The Emperor’s Gambit_.

Ready for this, Varian ran around the clearing and readied his traps. Then he slipped under the cover of darkness back to the caravan on the opposite side to which Cassandra and Eugene were waiting. He slipped under the caravan and examined his opponents. The old man was asleep on the ground—no surprise there. The horses and the bearcats patrolled the edge of the clearing, and the rhino stood watch near the fire. The bird was off searching the skies, unaware of his closeness to the clearing.

The raccoon sat nearby. He hissed softly, and the creature turned to look. His eyes widened in surprise, and he scampered over at Varian’s motions and slid under the caravan with him. “You’re on my side, right?” Varian asked softly. The raccoon nodded and slid under his arm. Varian smiled. “Okay. Here’s what we need to do.”

He whispered the plan to the raccoon, who grinned ferally. Ruddiger took an empty vial and started for the cauldron over the fire. Crouching low near the flames, he suddenly reared up with a snarl, his shadow looming on a rock behind him. The bearcats roared and charged toward the rock, stepping into the looped vines Varian had prepared. The vines tightened, the snare flinging the binturongs over the rock and close to the edge of the woods. Varian slid out from under the caravan and threw two of the goo bombs, retreating back into his hiding place.

Ruddiger hopped on top of the rhino and hung from the saddle, dipping the vial into the cauldron and putting a stopper on the top. He jumped back off as the creature snorted and tossed angrily. Ruddiger darted back for the caravan but was swooped up by Eugene.

“What the hair?” the man grumbled. “Ruddiger, what—” he stopped as he saw the vial. “The cure? You… you’re with Varian! You know he can’t have it yet.”

Varian glared and threw one of his bombs out from under the caravan. It rolled to a stop at the man’s feet, and Ruddiger threw a rock he had picked up onto it. It shattered and sealed the man’s feet down. Ruddiger dropped to the ground and ran back to Varian, who rolled out from his hiding place and snatched both the coon and the cure. He ran back for the edge of the woods as the two lady warriors charged him.

He smirked. “So which of you has the honor of capturing me?”

They encircled him, the horses and rhino keeping watch from a distance. “This isn’t about honor,” Adira said. “This is about helping you. If you’ll hear us out, we can explain.”

Varian nodded. “Makes sense.” He turned to Cassandra and offered his wrists. “Do you want to bind me, m’lady? So I don’t run again? And, of course, that also means you get the right to tell Hector you caught me.”

Cassandra stepped forward, but Adira snarled, “Touch him and I’ll make sure you never touch anything again.”

Varian raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to let her talk to you like that?”

Cassandra glared at Adira. “Okay, first of all, we’re trying to get him to stay, remember? And if you’re not going to keep him here, I will.”

“You know the rules. No one but me or Hector touches him. And we don’t have to tie him up. We’re going to talk to him.”

“Yeah, see, unless you tie me up, I’m not staying,” Varian informed them. “So either do it or let me go.”

“Fine.” Cassandra took another step forward, and Adira growled.

“Varian, whatever you’re worried about, I’m sure we can talk this over,” she said. “And if Short Hair tries to tie you up, I’ll kill her. Simple. We’re not your enemies. Well, I’m not.”

“Then she is?” He pointed to Cassandra. The lady started to speak, but Varian moved before she could and threw Ruddiger at the horses. The raccoon landed on Maximus, who reared in surprise and slammed into Fidella. Cassandra charged forward, and Varian darted around the edge of the fire and back towards the caravan, tossing three goo bombs at the rhino. A knockout potion would be better, but he didn’t know if the ones he had were a heavy enough concentration to take out a creature that size. He dove underneath and slid out on the other side as the woman came around the corner. He jumped to his feet and ran along the side, smirking as her foot caught in one of his traps. The vine attached to the lever pulled taut, splitting the caravan in half, as she tripped and fell. Thankfully, she landed on her good arm. A goo bomb took her out of the fight. While she was down, Varian snatched a stick and ran back around her, shoving his makeshift lever in between the two halves of the caravan and forcing them apart. The caravan tumbled to the ground with a deafening crash as the contents inside were tossed about.

Adira leaped on top of one half. “Listen to me, Varian,” she said, just a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. Not like she got with Cassandra. “It’s okay to be scared, but you’re only putting yourself in more danger like this.”

Varian growled and darted out from behind the fallen caravan. If Ruddiger had done his part, she was his last obstacle until Hector and Rapunzel got back.

Both of them winced as Maximus tried to shake Ruddiger off and faceplanted into a rock. That wasn’t part of the plan; the raccoon was supposed to lead him into a trap. Fidella charged at him, and Ruddiger screeched and bolted across the clearing. He hopped onto the back of the rhino, who snorted angrily and thrashed to try to throw him off—unsuccessfully, of course; Varian _did_ take a small measure of pride in his alchemical prowess. Fidella circled the rhino, trying to find a way to get to her opponent.

Varian coughed, his tiny frame shuddering under the stress. He dropped to his knees and hunched his shoulders. Adira hopped off the caravan to land next to him. She knelt by his side and started to reach out a hand, but he grabbed her arm and forced her hand to the ground, smashing another vial on her wrist. She yelped as he smirked and stood. “Varian, you get this off me right now, young man!”

“Or what? No offense, Ms. Adira, but you don’t exactly have anything to threaten me with right now. You need me alive.” Across the clearing, Ruddiger had succeeded in leading Fidella into yet another trap. The knockout serum he'd rigged did its work, and the horse fell to the ground.

“Kid,” Eugene called from his own trap. “Why on earth do you think we’re out to get you?”

“I don’t know, maybe because all of you have been lying to me? And you’re really bad at it, by the way. Are we going to the Dark Kingdom or Old Corona? And I never would have given up alchemy. And Dad would have told me about Hector and Adira, especially if they’re my guardians for the trip. But they didn’t even speak to him. The only conclusion I can come to is that everyone’s lying and that I’m being used.”

“Literally all of this was just to help you! Don’t you want your memory back?”

“Oh, I do,” he assured him. “And I’ll get them. On my _own_ terms.”

“The potion’s not ready!”

“Serum. And I’m not waiting around with you freaks for however long it takes.” He turned to go, ignoring the repeated pleas from Adira and Eugene that it was too dangerous out there and the threats from Cassandra proving it was dangerous here. He checked to make sure the cure was safely in his pocket. It hadn’t been shattered in all of the scrambling around, thank goodness.

Ruddiger, now sitting on a log by the fire and looking rather smug at having dealt with two horses, chittered at Varian. He made a drinking motion and pointed to the cure. Varian shook his head. “I can’t yet. Not here; it’s not safe. And I need to get this back over a fire for a bit.”

The raccoon hopped up and down, chattering incessantly. Varian glared. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Ruddiger motioned to the war zone that was formerly a campsite and pointed at the serum again. Clearly he wanted Varian to go ahead and drink it so he’d remember who these people actually were. Well, he would have to be disappointed. Eugene had been right about the timing of the cure; taking it now would do no good. He had to get away, and he had to get somewhere where he could make a fire.

Noise at the edge of the clearing sent him spinning around to see Hector watching him. He’d expected him about half a minute earlier, honestly. The man took a step forward and caught his foot in the snare Varian had placed for him. It yanked him off his feet, almost causing him to hit his head on the ground. Varian had estimated his height and weight to make the trap safer. He didn’t trust any of these people, but he didn’t want to hurt them.

A flash of metal gleamed in the moonlight as Hector sliced the vine and dropped lithely to the ground.

O‴O‴O‴

Past the aching in his chest, Varian was distantly aware that the rest of him was fine. He had never been coordinated or athletic, but somehow running through the woods in the middle of the night wasn’t bothering him all that much. His aim had also been surprisingly good, even with a bad eye. And there was the muscle definition that appeared to have been built through combat instead of just the usual carrying boxes and hammering metal he typically did. How long had he been like this? Had Hector or one of the other warriors been teaching him? Why was he training to fight? He wasn’t a soldier! He was a scientist!

Whatever the reason, he was grateful for it now. He jumped over a rock he most certainly would have tripped over without his new skills. Past the creek, around a fallen tree… He’d expected Hector would be the last to fall, and he’d need all of his talents, both physical and mental, to take him down. He’d never faced an opponent like him, except maybe Adira.

As far as he knew, he’d never faced an opponent, _period._

The trap loomed ahead of him. This had been his most complex and had taken a good while to put together. Almost there, almost…

He ducked under a vine tied between two trees, hearing Hector slice through it behind him. The tree branch he’d strung with it swung back at the man, and the knockout potion tied to the branch—his last one, unfortunately—hit the man in the chest. Hector covered his mouth and nose and cut the branch, stepping into the clearing where Varian and Ruddiger were waiting. He brushed flecks of glass off himself and faced them.

Varian picked up a stick and readied it in a staff-fighting stance. Hector raised a brow. “I’m not here to fight you, kid,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“No.” Varian yanked the stick. The vine attached to it triggered a boulder, which landed on a makeshift catapult, which launched a smaller rock across the clearing. It struck a stick propping up a small downed tree, which fell across a rope strung underneath it, which triggered another rock hidden in the branches of a tree, which fell and triggered the net directly underneath Hector’s feet.

Varian watched his trap work with pride. Was it unnecessarily complex? Maybe. Had it distracted Hector? Yep. The man twisted and struggled to escape the tangled vines, and Varian darted underneath him, prepared to grab the retractable sword. Hector moved quicker, though, severing the bonds with a dagger. He dropped to the ground and snagged Varian’s arm.

Varian instinctively grabbed the man, flipping him and breaking his hold. He jumped back and shifted into a fighter’s stance. Hector stared up at him.

“How the CRAP!”

“You taught me.”

The warrior leaped to his feet. “You remember?”

His eyes held a glimmer of happiness, and it almost hurt Varian to have to answer. “No, process of elimination. You won’t let any of the others around me except Ms. Adira—what’s so funny?”

“Sorry,” Hector choked out. “Forgot you used to call her that.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point. You have a choice now.”

“What sort of choice?”

“Ruddiger!” Varian turned to his friend, who grinned ferally and lit a fire. The alchemist couldn’t help the thrill of victory as he saw Hector’s expression change to one of shock.

Hanging above the fire was the maroon cloak.

“Sentimental value, huh? Thought so. I recognized the stitches as the same pattern on your sleeve. You repaired it. Also, there’s the clasp. That symbol means something to you.”

“Kid, whatever you’re thinking, trust me. You don’t want to do that.”

Varian shrugged. “It’s really not up to me. Get it, or come after me. Your choice. But I’d choose quick. That rope won’t hold long.” He pointed to where Ruddiger now sat on a branch, having used a sharp rock to cut halfway through the rope holding the cloak. The raccoon dropped to Varian’s shoulders, and they took off running again. Varian listened behind him for the sound of his last trap near the fire being triggered, growling as he heard Hector’s sword decimating it like he had the rest. “Aww, come on! I really thought that one would get him. Oh, well, I do have one more plan.”

It wasn’t so much a plan as a time-killer. If it could stall Hector for just a few minutes, that would give Varian a better head-start, and he could find a way to disappear. He pushed himself to run faster, Ruddiger jumping down to run beside him.

There! At the edge of a river, a tree with an overhanging branch, almost touching a branch from the other side, the perfect path to cross, at least until Varian would tip the vial of acid he’d hidden there onto it and destroy the way over. The distance was too far to jump, and the piranhas would prevent even Hector from swimming. The bridge the caravan had crossed on was a good mile in the other direction. Varian motioned to the tree and climbed up into it after Ruddiger. The raccoon darted out onto the branch, pausing to make sure Varian was behind him. The alchemist followed, easily slipping from one branch to the next. Now for the acid…

Which Ruddiger had bumped into…

Causing it to spill onto the branch…

That Varian was still currently clinging to…

O‴O‴O‴

Varian’s traps were impressive. Hector would admire them more later when he got over his dizziness. Seriously, if the kid hung him upside down one more time, Hector was grounding him. He tied the cloak around his waist like a sash and followed after his kid.

… And not a moment too soon, given the sound of panicked yelling filtering through the trees.

Did this kid ever not get into a life-threatening situation?

He emerged on the bank of a river, seeing Varian clinging to a branch that had been cut about halfway through. Above his head, Artemis was flying in worried circles. Ruddiger sat near the trunk of the tree, on the opposite bank, screeching in fear. The boy’s foot scraped a piece of bark off the branch. It hit the water, which came alive with the ferocious thrashings of the piranhas below.

Varian had the worst luck with trees, didn’t he?

“Kid! Hold on, I’m coming!” He climbed into the tree across from Varian and crawled out onto the branch. The kid looked back at him and clung to his own branch all the more tightly.

“Stay away!” He scrambled for a better grip. “Leave me alone!”

“Varian.” Hector kept his voice low. “That branch ain’t going to last much longer, and if you’re still on it when it falls, you’re fish food. I need you to trust me.” He held out a hand. Varian looked back over his shoulder at him.

“I can’t trust you!” he screamed. “You’re a liar!”

“I never lied, kid. Not a single time. Everything I said was the honest truth. Now I need you to jump.” He extended a hand. “Please. We’ll talk everything out. But we can’t do that if you’re dead.”

Varian looked back at Ruddiger, who nodded. Then he turned to Hector again. “How do I know you won’t let me fall?”

“Kid, I’m never gonna let you fall again.” He looked at his left hand, the one he’d offered. Then he pulled the glove off and tossed it to the ground. Holding it out towards Varian one more time, he pleaded, “Just jump. I can’t let you die. It would kill me. I need you to _trust me_.”

Varian still didn’t look convinced. He eyed Hector distrustfully. “The cloak,” he finally said. “Why did you care so much about it?”

“It was your dad’s,” he admitted. “I cut it to your size. Gave it to you on your fifteenth birthday.”

The boy bit his lip, but as the branch started to crack again, he turned and launched himself through the air at Hector. The warrior reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him up as the other branch snapped off and fell into the water. Pulling Varian tightly to his chest, he breathed a sigh of relief. The child was shaking, staring down at what could have been his watery tomb, but he was unharmed.

Hector helped him back across the branch and to the ground. “There’s a bridge off that way,” he called to Ruddiger. “Right, can we talk now?”

Varian wrapped his arms around himself. “Fine. But I want the whole truth. No lying.”

“’Kay.”

“First question. Where’s my dad?”

Hector sighed. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian tried in vain to stop the tears that spilled down his cheeks. True to his word, Hector had answered every question Varian had asked while they sat by the fire waiting on the cure. The neutralizing agent that Varian had prepared aforetime had freed Adira, the bearcats, and the rhino. Hector informed him the others could wait a while. They’d at least freed Lance so he could join the others in the clearing. The princess had also rejoined them.

He traced his fingers over the picture that Hector had retrieved from the caravan. “He looks happy,” he whispered. Was this picture truly the only way he’d ever see his dad smiling again? Overwhelming guilt wrapped a chain around his heart. Hector insisted it was an accident, that Quirin had made his choice and wouldn’t want Varian to hate himself for it, but he couldn’t stop wondering what would have happened if he’d just been a better son in the first place.

And then there was the princess. Varian saw now why Hector hated her. He kept his eyes averted and ignored her as much as possible. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut during Hector’s explanations.

“I think it’s ready,” Adira said. She dipped a cup into the cauldron and brought it to Varian. Her dark eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “Do you need space?”

“Y-yeah, I think so. I’ll just…” He stood and started for the caravan. “You and Mr. Hector and Ruddiger can come. But I need to be away from everyone else.”

The three followed him into the caravan. He sat on his bunk and lifted the cup to his lips. “Here’s to answers.”

O‴O‴O‴

_The women were bickering about something. As he walked closer, Aunt Adira and Lance at his back, he tried not to flinch at the raised voices. “I’m fine,” he heard Cassandra snap. “Just stop pushing me.”_

_“Cass, something’s clearly wrong! I’m your friend. Why won’t you talk to me?”_

_“Because there’s nothing to talk about.” She looked over at Varian as he approached. “Great. What do you want?”_

_“Honestly? To never have to see any of you again, but that’s not really an option right now.”_

_Cassandra growled and took a step forward. Aunt Adira’s hand rested on Varian’s shoulder—gentle, but a reminder for the bodyguard to stand down or face her wrath. Cassandra rolled her eyes and turned back to the cart she was exploring, picking up a strange stick from one of the drawers._

_“Is there something you wanted, Varian?” the princess asked._

_“Yeah, I came to talk. Actually talk this time. If you’re okay with that.”_

_She raised an eyebrow. “To talk? No offense, but is this just going to be you trying to tell me what a horrible person I am for choosing my kingdom over you?” She’d at least dropped the pretenses that they were somehow road trip buddies, which Varian was grateful for._

_“No, no, it wasn’t going to be, actually. It was going to be a proper conversation. But I suppose your idea of a conversation is you reminding me I’m a monster who deserves to suffer all the abuse your father can put me through, and I’m not interested in that. If we can’t talk like civil adults, forget it.” He turned away from her, letting his gaze drift over the ruined town._

_Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why had he let Lance talk him into it? The man was currently whispering with the princess, probably trying to get her to give this “talking it out” thing a shot. Good luck with that. He turned to the apothecary cart Cassandra was exploring._

_“Could you, I don’t know, go literally anywhere else?” the woman griped._

_“Are you okay?”_

_“What?” She turned to look at him in surprise._

_“You heard me.”_

_“I’m fine. Why do you care?”_

_The princess walked over. “Yeah. Why do you care?”_

_“Um, because I have a particular interest in keeping Cassandra happy. Because when Cassandra’s not happy, she takes it out on me.” He crossed his arms. “Excuse me for actually being concerned, even if it was out of self-preservation.”_

_“Yeah, good luck,” the princess snipped pettily. “She won’t even tell me what’s wrong. You think she’ll tell you?”_

_“Maybe I will,” her bodyguard suddenly growled, glaring at the princess over Varian’s head. “At least he’s not so sickeningly_ bright _all the time, trying to force me to talk about feelings and junk. He’s grumpy. I can respect that.”_

_Had the words truly come out of Cassandra’s mouth? He had to be dreaming. “Speaking of, do you want to tell me what’s got you so upset that you’ll probably yell at me for something stupid like breathing later tonight?”_

_“Cass, if this is about your arm—” The princess stepped towards her friend._

_“Enough about my arm!” she snapped. “I’m fine! It’s just a break.”_

_“Yeah,” Varian added. “At least she got it treated immediately instead of having to let it sit for days before someone cared enough to take care of it.”_

_“Did you break something?” the princess asked._

_“_ I _didn’t break anything. My arm was broken by the guards in prison.”_

_Cassandra winced. “How long was it broken before they fixed it?”_

_“They didn’t. Uncle Hector did when he busted me out. It was… I dunno, a few days? A week? I couldn’t exactly keep time down there.”_

_“They didn’t treat you?”_

_He eyed Cassandra skeptically. Why did she care so much? This was the weirdest thing that had happened since he got thrown together with these people. “No. The only times they ever treated me were when my injuries were life-threatening, and that’s because they wanted to keep me alive so they could keep beating me. And I’d hardly call what they did ‘treatment’.” He shook his head. “This isn’t about me. All I wanted to know is if you’re okay.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“Okay then. But if you start getting on to me tonight for daring to exist, I’m calling you a liar.” He turned to go._

_“Varian, come on,” Lance said. “I thought you said you’d give this a shot.”_

_“And I did. If Her Royal Highness isn’t willing to talk like an adult, I can’t make her.”_

_The man put a hand on his shoulder. “Just give her a chance.”_

_He turned a fierce gaze on him. “I’ve given her plenty of chances. I’m ready, but she’s not. I’ll be nice enough to give her time.”_

_The princess rolled her eyes. “What, this is somehow my fault now that you can’t stand apologizing? If you don’t want to, don’t. But don’t blame me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was trying to have a conversation with my friend before you chose to interrupt.”_

_“And I told you I’m_ fine _,” Cassandra snapped. “Why do you keep trying to say I’m not?”_

_“Because I know when something’s bothering you!”_

_“It’s none of your business! Why can’t you just leave me alone? And you!” She whirled on Varian in frustration, but the venom drained from her eyes and voice. “Just—ugh, never mind. Forget it.”_

O‴O‴O‴

Hector could do nothing more than watch helplessly the change that came over his nephew’s visage. The cup fell from Varian’s hands, and his eyes widened as they fixated on an unseen horror. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped. One trembling hand reached forward to grasp at something that wasn’t there.

The expression of horror changed without warning, and his face flushed with a burning rage. Just as quickly, that was gone, replaced with sheer terror. The boy curled up into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face. He shook like a leaf in a storm, and muffled sobs finally broke from his throat.

Hector reached out to place a hand on Varian’s shoulder. But the moment he made contact, Varian flinched away, jerking his head up to stare with frightened eyes. Tears coursed down his face. Hector stepped back. “Sorry. Sorry. Take your time. You’re safe now.”

It took maybe three minutes, but it felt like an eternity to the powerless warrior. Adira and Ruddiger watched from off to the side, both looking like Hector felt. Eventually, Varian uncurled slightly. He blinked up at them, seemingly recognizing them for the first time. “U—uncle…”

Hector knelt down in front of him and offered a hand. Varian hesitantly reached out and took it. He leaned forward like part of him wanted to throw himself into his family’s arms, but he held back. Hector tried not to wince. All those bad memories all at once only served to reopen old wounds, it would seem.

“I’m sorry,” Varian whispered through his sobs. “I’m s-sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

“Hey, no, don’t be,” Hector insisted gently. “Not your fault. Take your time, ‘kay? You’re safe now.”

“I didn’t t-trust you.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.” He rubbed a circle on the back of his kid’s hand. “You didn’t know.”

He waited until Varian cried himself to sleep, huddling into his protective ball to keep the world at bay. Then the man took the vial of the neutralizing particle and left to free the others. “Keep an eye on him,” he ordered Adira.

Outside, the others were waiting with bated breath. “He’s back,” Hector growled brusquely. “Sleeping now.”

“Is he okay?” The princess clasped her hands together in what could have been called concern from anyone else.

“Not really. Don’t talk to him. Don’t look at him. Don’t even breathe in his general direction.” He finished freeing them and stalked back to the caravan. If today’s events were any indication, Varian would probably be getting nightmares.

And Hector was going to be there for him. He wasn’t letting his nephew fall, physically or metaphorically. That was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm getting slight burnout at the moment (considering this story is the size of a book already and I'm not done yet). That's part of the reason this chapter took so long, so I'm going to have to take a slight break. Just a week or two, hopefully, while I try to figure out my new school schedule and catch up on some previous commitments. I probably won't be able to respond to comments as quickly, but I will try. I'll still be writing, just a little slower. See you in a while!
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	23. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm, a house, a strange host... everything's fine. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BAAAAACK!
> 
> I'll have to take things a bit slow for a while, but I'll still be doing my best. I'm exhausted, but this is something that brings me joy, so I'll need some time for the heavier chapters. Thank y'all for your patience and support. I love y'all.
> 
> Trigger warnings: self-deprecation, introspection about scars

Varian gasped and curled into Hector’s side as a clap of thunder shook the night. The warrior placed a hand out for his nephew to grasp. Two days since the incident, and Varian was starting to recover, but his nerves were on high alert. The others kept their distance, not speaking to the warriors or their nephew unless they needed to. Except for Lance, of course. He apologized to Varian a million times and hovered like a protective mother until Adira chased him away.

The three sat sideways on the bunk, Varian snuggled between the warriors. He’d been skittish and panicky at first, but his need for shelter and protection sent him into their arms before long. As long as Hector and Adira didn’t make any sudden movements, he was fine. They kept to themselves, and the princess’s group kept to themselves (except for Lance), and the atmosphere was thicker than the princess’s skull.

Hector flipped a page in his book and glanced over at Varian again. His nephew was staring intently at the scroll pieces, mumbling to himself. Ruddiger snoozed in his lap, twitching slightly when thunder sounded, although that could be a reaction to his boy’s flinching. Adira sat next to their nephew, drawing on his face with her red paint. She squinted and tilted her head slightly, dipping her finger in the paint and drawing a line on Varian’s cheek. Then she grinned and added two dots. Hector craned his neck to see. Adira had traced a curved scar on Varian’s face and placed two eyes over it to make a smile.

Hector dipped his finger in the paint and drew two more lines. Adira frowned. “Did you just draw fangs on my smile?”

“Yeah. What you gonna do about it?”

“It’s a smile. It’s not supposed to have fangs.”

Hector grinned, showing off his unnaturally sharp teeth. “I resent the implication I’m not allowed to smile.” He closed his mouth, letting his sharp canines stick out of his lips and sending Varian into a fit of giggling.

Thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated the night outside the window. Varian buried his face in Hector’s side again. He wasn’t afraid of storms, Hector knew, but he’d been alternatingly vivacious and jumpy ever since the last incident.

Hector hated how “incident” had become a common word for them.

“Aww, kid, you’re gonna get red all over my shirt,” he teased. “If I wanted to be covered in red, I’d hug Adira.”

“She’d stab you,” Varian mumbled.

“Yeah. That’s where the red comes from.”

Adira stuck her tongue out. “Maybe don’t talk about b-l-o-o-d in front of him?” She suggested.

“Gee, if only I knew what that could possibly spell,” Varian replied with a smirk.

“Don’t sass me. Earrings!” she snapped at Lance.

He turned to her with a bright smile, heedless of her tone. “Yes, Ange-A-Ad-Adira?”

“I will cut out your tongue if you don’t stop that _whistling,_ ” she hissed.

He wisely shut up.

“You know, you could always ask nicely,” Fitzherbert commented from his faithful place in front of his mirror. “It’s not that hard.”

“It’s also not that hard to enjoy the sight of something other than your reflection, Orion,” Cassandra snapped from the doorway.

“Narcissus.”

“What?” She whirled on Varian.

“Narcissus was the one who fell in love with his reflection. Orion was a hunter.”

She glared at him for a moment before sighing and looking away. “Whatever.”

The princess entered their side of the caravan and sat at the table, sketching in her journal. Varian curled up further as she entered. Adira and Hector exchanged a look and slid closer together, sheltering Varian further.

Cassandra gritted her teeth as the princess’s quill scratched over her paper. “Seriously, Raps, knock it off,” she growled. “Is there any better way you could spend your time?”

“What, you mean like slicing up our apples for ‘practice’?” she snapped back.

“Hey, if I’m going to protect us, I need to figure out how to use this hand properly.” She waved her left hand. “Besides, if _someone_ had listened to me about Varian, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Yeah, what’s that supposed to mean?” Varian echoed.

“I told you to let me watch him instead of Adira. She didn’t guard him, and Hector got him back and _broke my arm_.”

“Hey, lady-in-waiting,” Hector snapped, “the only reason you ain’t dead right now is because Adira was watching him.”

“You tried to kill me. You failed.”

“Want me to try again?”

“Okay,” the princess interrupted. “Look, I get it. We’re all aggravated because of the storm, and being stuck in here, but it could be worse. We could be out there getting wet.”

“Hey, Sundrop, your caravan leaks,” Hector snipped. “And I got a sick kid to worry about.”

“I’m not sick,” Varian grumbled.

“I heard you coughing five minutes ago. The weather’s messing you up again.”

“Lance! If you do not stop whistling, I will _throttle_ you!” the princess snapped.

The caravan gave a shuddering lurch and jerked to a stop. Hector put an arm around Varian to keep him still. “What the dickens?”

The princess stepped to the door and looked out. “Tree down,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” Throwing a cloak over her head, she stepped outside. She returned a moment later. “Well, it’s official,” she declared in annoyance. “We are stuck.”

The others started bickering again. Hector ignored them. “How frizzy do you think her hair gets if she lets it out of the braid while it’s raining?” he whispered to Varian. His nephew stifled a laugh behind his hand. Adira grinned and poked the boy in the side. Hector joined her in tickling the child, soaking in the sound of his laughter like cold water in a desert.

“Hector?”

He groaned and looked up. “What?”

Cassandra motioned to the window. “I asked if you think we should check out the house.”

“Why are we asking him?” the princess demanded.

Hector stood and looked out the window. Off in the distance, lights shone from the windows of a shell-shaped house. Why was something like that out in the middle of the woods? And not far from where the caravan had conveniently gotten stuck? Hector gritted his teeth. The entire thing reeked of danger, of a trap.

Muffled coughing brought his attention back to Varian, as his laughter stole his breath and changed to a shuddering tremble as he collapsed weakly against Adira’s side. He sighed. “Like it or not, I need to get him out of the cold. We’ll try the house.”

“That’s why,” Cassandra answered her princess.

She shrugged. “Okay, fine. At least it means I’m not the only one who wants to go. Come on! It’ll be an adventure.”

The handmaid grumbled a bit more but followed her. Hector pulled Varian’s cloak up to cover his head. Then he took off his own and draped it over him.

“I’m fine,” the boy insisted. “You’ll get wet.”

“I’ll live. C’mon, sicko. Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

O‴O‴O‴

They ran through the rain up to the door of the cottage. Varian struggled to keep from tripping in the mud, knowing it would result in him getting picked up like a piece of luggage and carried to safety. Hector’s cloak dragged behind him, and he gathered it around himself to try to keep it from getting dirty. Ruddiger curled around his neck under the hood. As they reached the house, Hector nudged Varian closer to the door to keep him further out of the rain as the princess knocked.

The door opened, and an elderly, white-haired gentleman peeked out. The princess greeted him and explained their situation. Varian tried to listen, but another coughing spell sent his head spinning. He dimly felt Hector lift him into his arms as he started to fall. He reached up a hand to grasp the fur-lined cloak.

“Zhat’s not good,” the gentleman stated, his French accent and posh demeanor giving the child uncomfortable flashbacks to another pompous, accented jerk who had sabotaged his life. Not that there was anything wrong with accents; Xavier back in Corona had a beautiful voice. “Your son iz ill?”

“Not my son,” Hector growled. “And yeah. So if you’d let me get him inside, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course! You are all most welcome!” He narrowed his gaze at the bearcats. “Except for zhe animals, of course.”

Hector leaned slightly closer, towering over the man. “Where I go, they go. They’re bodyguards. I can pay you for any inconvenience.” His tone left no room for argument.

Wordlessly, the man stepped aside to let them in. Kubwa rubbed his head up against Hector affectionately and turned to the stable, the horses and birds following him. The humans and bearcats entered the house, the spacious foyer warm and inviting after the cold storm.

“If he doesn’t have to leave his wolf-monkeys outside, how come Max and Fidella couldn’t come in, huh?” Fitzherbert grumbled to the princess. “Personally, I think the horses are better behaved.”

Kiki and Riki growled and circled around Hector’s legs. “I said they’re bodyguards,” Hector hissed. “You won’t need protecting from anything if you keep your hands to yourself.”

“What, like you think we’d just attack him or something?”

“That’s exactly what I think. How’d you get him back at the Tree, huh?”

“Manners, Hector,” Adira chided. She turned to their host. “Thank you for understanding our concern, Mr…”

“Matthews,” he explained. “And it iz quite alright. I understand a parent’s concern for zheir child.”

“Not my son,” Hector snapped again as he set Varian back on his feet. Wavering unsteadily for a moment, he clung to Hector’s arm. Why was it that every time he thought he was over his sickness, he ended up clinging to his uncle, too weak to even stand on his own legs?

Memories of that night spent running through the woods, combined with the storm that had started just after and hadn’t let up since, reminded him why. Oops.

“Oh, dear,” Matthews said as Hector took the dripping-wet cloak off Varian’s shoulders. “Zhat’s rather filthy, isn’t it? Allow me. I’ll take care of it and return it to you.” He held out a hand for the cloak, and Hector acquiesced. Draping it over his arm, Matthews motioned for them to follow, he and the princess striking up idle conversation. He led them up a winding staircase.

“So this place is made entirely of shells?” the princess asked, looking around at the pink walls.

“I see you’ve noticed. Let me guess; you must be the genius of the group, oui?”

Lance didn’t hold back. He’d been acting weird around the others for days now. “If you want to talk to a genius, Varian here is your man!”

Varian’s face turned scarlet, and he shrank against Hector’s side. “Leave me out of this.”

“Oh, come now,” Matthews said. “False modesty doesn’t seem to suit you. You know the alchemical makeup of a shell, no?”

“Mostly calcium carbonate.” He flinched, and Ruddiger purred softly against his neck to comfort him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The host and the princess kept chatting, and Lance came over to Varian as they reached the top of the staircase and entered a wide hall. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“No, I’m trying to respect your space, mostly because Adira threatens me when I don’t, but also because I care about you, and I’m not going to push you. Sorry about what happened with the memory thing, by the way.”

“I know. You’ve apologized every single hour since then for two days straight.”

“I know, I just thought I’d apologize again.”

Varian laughed softly, realizing with surprise it was the first time he’d laughed good-naturedly because of anyone from _her_ group, the day of memory loss not included. “I forgive you. And thanks for trying to help me get over my fear. One day I’ll talk to her. When we’re both ready.”

“That’s fair. And I won’t try to force it. You need time.”

“Shorty, put those down!” Fitzherbert snatched a few crystal orbs from the old man’s hands and placed them back in their bowl on the table against the wall.

Hector tilted his head and picked one up. “Var, you think I could balance this on my sword?”

“I said _put those down_!” Fitzherbert exclaimed.

The warrior glared down at him. “I do what I want.”

“Hector, _behave_!” Adira hissed, snatching the orb. “Honestly, you’re a child!”

The princess gave a strained laugh. “Mr. Matthews, It’s so beautiful here! What is this place?”

“It’s called zhe ‘Ouse of Yesterday’s Tomorrow.” He waved his arms dramatically.

“Yesterday’s Tomorrow. So… then, today?”

“Yeesh. Redundant, much?” Hector whispered. Adira whacked the back of his head.

Matthews didn’t seem to notice Hector’s behavior, still talking to the princess. He smiled at the group. “’Ere are zhe guest bedrooms. Please, enjoy your stay! ‘Owever long zhat may be…” He turned and walked away.

Varian stared after him. Something was very wrong here. He stepped closer to Hector. His uncle noticed his mood and put an arm around his shoulders. “’S okay, kid,” he murmured. “We’ll keep an eye out.” Letting go of him, Hector opened the door to one of the rooms. “Ugh. Someone tell this guy to fire his decorator.”

Varian hesitated out in the hall as the others disappeared into their rooms. Every nerve on high alert, he looked around. Why did this man and this house terrify him so? Movement in the corner of his eye caused him to jump in fright before he recognized his reflection in a mirror at the end of the hall.

He stepped closer, still fighting his unease. He tended to avoid mirrors, as they only served to bring up bad memories. Sighing, he reached up to place his hand against the glass over the image of his right eye. Then he stopped, about a foot away from the surface of the mirror still, and used the back of his hand to brush away the smudged remnants of red paint on his face instead.

If his dad could see him now, what would he think? Would he be baffled by the change of clothes, surprised at the new definition to his muscles, concerned by the way he tensed and shifted as if expecting someone to attack him rather than his typical hyper fidgeting? Would he be horrified by the scars lining his son’s body, or would he say it was his due punishment? Would he look past the broken exterior the way Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira did, seeing his marks but not letting that be all they saw? Or would he turn his gaze away, too disgusted to look on what Varian had become?

“Mirrors truly are a wonder, aren’t zhey?”

Varian whirled around, drawing his knife, only to see Matthews standing nearby. When had he come back?

For his part, the man didn’t seem all that concerned with having a blade pulled on him by a child. “Zhey show us both what we wish to see and zhat which we do not. One cannot have one without zhe other. Painfully honest, zhey are. Zhey show the darkness which we would ‘ide away and ignore. And what zhey show is often dependent upon us. What we choose.” He looked over Varian skeptically. “And sometimes what is chosen for us.” He put a hand on Varian’s shoulder, and the warrior-in-training had to fight the urge to stab him. He stepped back away from him and out from under his touch. Unbothered, Matthews continued, “I wonder which is which in your case?”

With those words, he turned and walked away. Varian walked to the edge of the steps and waited until he saw him reach the bottom floor and exit through another door before rejoining his family. What was with that creep? He took a deep breath and rejoined his family. He wouldn’t let their unusual host get to him. But he’d be lying if he said the man’s words hadn’t given him food for thought.

They crashed in three of the rooms, the men taking one, the women taking a second, and the Brotherhood taking a third because they refused to split up or room with the others. The wardrobe in their room provided towels, and they quickly dried off and changed into new clothes from Hector and Adira’s bags as Varian explained what Matthews had said. All three agreed that the man was up to no good.

Hector snatched Varian up and deposited him into one of the beds before he could react or complain. He crossed his arms.

The man crossed his arms right back. “Don’t give me that look. You, mister, are staying right there.”

“I’m fine!”

“Bullcrap. Stay.”

Adira stood and started for the door. “I’ll bring you food. Don’t let anyone in unless it’s me.”

“What about Mr. Lance?” Varian asked.

“Ugh. Fine. Earrings can come in as long as Hector’s here. Speaking of, don’t leave.” She closed the door behind her. Kiki followed her out, and Riki stayed to keep guard.

Hector pulled the blanket up over Varian. “Right. Ready for ‘Embarrassing Stories About Aunt Adira’?”

“Is she going to stab you when she finds out you told?”

“Yep. So don’t tell her. ‘Kay, so there was this one time I told her about a weird noise I was hearing from the East Wing, and she went to check it out, and when she did, I hopped off the rafters and pretended to be a ghost. Scared her half to death. She went and told Quirin the castle was haunted.” He shrugged. “Got a tongue-lashing from him. It was worth it for the look on her face.”

“You scared the fearless Adira?”

“She wasn’t always fearless. And it probably didn’t hurt that I put a fake body in one corner. She wouldn’t go in the East Wing again for a month, until Quirin gave her that black earring. Told her it would protect her. She knows better now, but she still wears it. I think she’s just sentimental.”

They stayed like that for a while, Hector braiding his hair and telling stories and Varian staring at the scroll pieces. A loud crash rang through the hallway, causing both of them to start with surprise. Hector drew his sword and stood, putting himself between Varian and the door. They waited, nerves taut, but aside from the muted sounds of talking in the hall that quickly faded, nothing else disturbed the peace. Hector sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Someone probably dropped something,” he stated.

Varian just nodded, wrapping his arms around Ruddiger. It took maybe twelve minutes before they were torn from their musings again, this time by the sound of yelling. The door burst open, and Adira darted in, slamming and locking it behind her. She pointed her sword at them.

“What the dickens?” Hector demanded. “Adira—”

“Tell me the name of your first swordmaster,” she ordered.

“Master Jethro. Why?”

She turned to Varian. “What did I ask your forgiveness for?”

“For not helping me in Old Corona. For leaving me to get arrested. Aunt Adira, what’s going on?”

“Imposters outside. Neither of you left the room?”

“No.” Hector sheathed his sword. “Your turn. What did you threaten to do to Lance in the caravan?”

“A lot of things. Most recently, cut out his tongue.” She tossed a bag to Hector. “I got food. Stay here. I’ll be back. Lock the door. Don’t let anyone in, not even me. Unless I give you a code word.”

“What word?”

She thought for a minute. “Twenty.” She left, and Hector locked the door.

“That was… odd,” Varian stated. “Will she be okay?”

“’Okay’? Kid, I pity the poor soul that tries to pose as Adira.”

O‴O‴O‴

The yelling and crashing didn’t get much quieter. Hector kept his blade ready, pacing back and forth, and Varian sat on the edge of the bed with his dagger. Riki sat near the bed, Ruddiger on his back. A pounding on the door accompanied the other horrific noises.

“Let me in!” a familiar voice hollered. “Guys, please, open the door!”

“Lance!” Varian jumped up. Hector put a hand on his shoulder. “Wha—we have to let him in!”

“We don’t know it’s him,” Hector reminded him. “Could be an imposter.”

“Please! Please, they’ll kill me! They’re coming!” The voice held sheer panic. “Please, they’ve got the others! Let me in!” The pounding continued.

“We can’t let him die if it is him!” Varian pleaded. “We can test him. But please let him in!”

Hector groaned. “Step back. Keep your knife up. Don’t get near him.” He unlocked the door, yanked it open, and dragged the man inside by his collar. Slamming the door shut and locking it with one hand, he pinned Lance to the wall with the other. Then he pointed his sword at his throat. “Did Adira give you the code word?”

“Code word? No, she got snatched. They dragged her off!”

Varian gasped. “Aunt Adira’s gone?”

“ _Where?_ ” Hector snarled.

“The hall in the mirror! That’s where they come from.”

“Whistle that thing you were doing earlier that annoyed Adira.”

“What?”

“ _Do it_!”

Lance gulped nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t whistle when I’m stressed.”

The warrior leaned closer, getting within an inch of Lance’s nose. “I won’t ask again.” Behind him, Ruddiger hissed in anger.

With a shaky laugh, Lance took a breath and attempted to whistle. Hector snarled and slammed him up against the wall again as the wrong tune passed his lips.

“Nice try, fake.”

“Where’s the real Lance?” Varian demanded, stepping closer.

“In the mirror,” the clone answered with a smug smile. “I can take you to him, if you want.”

“Not likely!” Hector twisted the clone’s arms behind his back. “V, get the door. Careful.”

Varian put an ear to the door to listen. He unlocked it and opened it carefully, peeking around the edge to check for more imposters. As soon as it was open far enough, Hector shoved the clone forward and out, slamming the door behind him and locking it again. “Right,” he grumbled as he slid to a seat at the base of the door. “Let’s not do that again.”

O‴O‴O‴

They waited tensely until a much calmer knock sounded. “Twenty,” Adira’s voice called. Hector opened the door and let her in. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, yelping in surprise as Varian threw his arms around her waist.

“Aunt Adira!” His eyes widened, and he let go. “Sorry. I… I meant to tell you. I do forgive you.”

She hugged him back. “Thank you, Varian. Come on. We need to get out of here _right now_.”

They grabbed their bags. “What now?” Varian asked. “Back to the caravan?”

“It’s a better option than staying here. I don’t know what Matthews is up to, but it’s not good. The clones are back in the mirror, but I’m sure that’s not all he has up his fancy sleeve.”

“Did you get got?” Hector asked.

She scoffed. “Please. I pity the poor soul that tries to pose as me.”

They met the others in the hall. The mirror was turned around backwards. As they started to walk away, Varian slung his backpack up onto his shoulders. An apple slipped out and bounced across the floor. With a happy chitter, Ruddiger darted after it.

“Ruddiger, wait!” Varian exclaimed, turning to see his friend. The raccoon skidded across the floor, tripping on a rug and hitting the edge of the mirror. It swayed precariously, tilting and wavering, and Ruddiger screeched and scampered out from under it as it fell to the ground with a crash, a web of cracks appearing along the surface.

Varian snatched up his friend, wrapping his arms around him protectively as thick tendrils of smoke emanated from the cracks in the mirror. In turn, Hector and Adira wrapped their arms around Varian and each other. “Let’s go!” Adira ordered, and they ran for the stairs, the princess’s group beside them. They had almost reached the top of the stairs when the smoke reached them.

It was cold, so cold, reaching into him, reaching _through him_ , diving down into the deepest parts of his heart, his head, searching, tearing, breaking into pieces the fragile walls that covered the deep pit where all the darkest thoughts and wishes resided, submerging itself and emerging less than a second later, leaving a burning in its wake—a burning that was oh so familiar and oh so hated and loved and despised all at once…

It tore away from him, having found exactly what it wanted, sending him collapsing to his knees. Weakly, he looked over to his family, who appeared just as mistreated. The princess’s group also lay gasping on the floor.

Lifting his head, he watched the smoke gather in front of them—forming shapes, solidifying, taking on color. Eight in all, some tall, some short, all strangely familiar…

The shapes turned to look at their victims. Varian hissed in shock as a pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in triumphant glee as they stared down at him.

 _His_ eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:  
> Literally no one:  
> Me, who started watching ATLA just recently: Uncle Hector and Uncle Iroh are two different ends of the uncle spectrum but they are both valid. Iroh helped his scarred, abused nephew who was determined to fight till the end, showing him patience and calmness, letting him know it was okay to relax and not spend every second chasing the Avatar and a love (and HONOR) he would never receive from his abuser. Hector helped his scarred, abused nephew, who was terrified to death to fight because of what it had done to him before, teaching him how to defend himself and how to stand up for himself. Iroh taught Zuko how to not fight for his abuser. Hector taught Varian how to fight for himself.
> 
> And if that's totally wrong, I apologize. I'm only halfway through.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	24. Darkness Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With evil reflections of themselves running around, everyone is forced to face uncomfortable truths they'd rather avoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say this in the last chapter, but if you haven't read "Cyclorama" by violetsaren_tblue, please please please do so! I can't stop rereading that! It's set during chapter 19 of this story. https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994775
> 
> And check out this amazing art by @k0ekienut on Tumblr! https://k0ekienut.tumblr.com/post/642427143714930688/little-sketch-doodles-of-varian-for-amax76s-fic
> 
> I'm trying to ignore the irony of taking a break and coming back exactly two weeks later and then working for over two weeks on one chapter. Anyway, here's an extra long one. I considered splitting it in half, but nah. Please excuse the shoddiness of this one. I'm tired of staring at it.
> 
> Trigger warnings: panic attacks, flashbacks (sort of), death (sort of), being restrained, strangling, mentions of past violent injuries, self-deprecation

“Move!”

Hector’s voice broke through the haze of confusion and snapped Varian to attention. He tore his gaze away from his doppelganger as his uncle grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. They started to run back down the hall. If they could get to a room, barricade themselves inside, they could take time to figure out what they were up against.

What they were up against was a massive case of irony, apparently, as Varian found his feet fixated to the floor with a strange pink goo.

He looked behind him to see Hector and Adira draw their swords and engage with their clones, as well as his. The princess and her friends had run the other way, Lance hesitating to leave but having no choice as the imposters drew ever closer.

Varian’s breathing sped as he tried to pull himself free. Of course he’d find himself not only trapped but trapped with his own chemicals. Twice the reason to panic. And he knew his work too well. He wasn’t getting out without that neutralizing particle.

Seeing his struggle, Ruddiger screeched and attacked the double, clawing at his belt and knocking an alchemy bomb loose, rolling it along the ground to come to a stop at Varian’s feet. He snatched it up, fighting the urge to scream and throw it as far away as possible. No, this was the neutralizer. It was safe. It wouldn’t hurt him. He dropped it on the trap and stepped free.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he drew his knife and spun to face the clones. Hector kicked his in the side, knocking it back, and spun on Varian 2. But his blade wavered, hesitated, and the Adira clone knocked him aside.

He flipped into a handspring and landed near Varian. Adira dropped back to join them, and they faced off against their doubles. Varian shuddered at the malicious smirk the second Varian gave him. Memories flooded his mind, days of rage and hatred and a war he never should have had to fight. A war he never should have _chosen_ to fight.

Blue eyes, a whole two of them, with a cruel light in them—a light that masked a deep pain he was oh so familiar with. A smile, twisted and warped, no trace of happiness in it. A blue long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, boots wrapped with strips of cloth, and a leather apron. No scars, of course, but the lingering trace of a bruise on his collarbone, half-hidden by his shirt. And the crowning glory: a familiar pair of goggles perched in his raven hair.

It was him. Oh, how he wished he could say it was a distorted picture of something he had never experienced, but it was _him_ , a year ago, two inches smaller than he was now, gaunt and pale after a month of wrongful imprisonment. This was him at his breaking point, at his darkest, when all trace of humanity or care for others had been locked away inside a box in his mind for fear that he would lose his resolve to do what he had to. What he _thought_ he had to.

What he didn’t have a choice but to do.

Or did he?

“We have to find the others,” Adira broke the silence. “What’s the plan?”

“End these freaks,” Hector offered, lunging forward and clashing his blade against Hector 2’s. Kiki followed him.

“That’s not a plan!” Adira snapped as she ran forward, meeting her own clone’s attack.

Varian was left with Riki and Ruddiger to face the double that slipped past them. He shuddered as Varian 2 tossed his long bangs out of his face and met his glare. “Pleased to meet you, Varian,” the clone spat.

O‴O‴O‴

The Hectors bounced around the hall, springing off walls and tables, one deadly focused and the other laughing like a madman. Kiki followed them but couldn’t get a hit in on the clone. “You’re pathetic!” Hector 2 cackled gleefully. “So predictable. I wonder, if I did this…” He suddenly jumped between the two Varians, swinging his blade towards the real one. Hector followed, blocking the sword with his own as his nephew yelped and backed up in shock.

“Hands off,” he snarled. “You’d think a clone would be a little more realistic. No one touches him.”

“No one except us,” the double answered. “Isn’t that the rule? Us and Adira. So why shouldn’t I kill him?”

“Well, that’s not like us, is it? We’d never hurt him.” Hector smirked. “You of all people should know that. You’re me.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t, huh?” Hector 2 smirked. His eyes glowed red, and a voice rang through the hall, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

_What the_ CRAP _! You know better! I_ told _you this was dangerous and you weren’t supposed to get near it! What were you thinking?_ You could have killed us all! _Is that what you wanted?_ Is it _?_

Hector hissed, the familiar searing rage tearing through his veins, the way it had just moments ago when the smoke overtook him. The way it had when he’d had that nightmare months ago. The way it had when he’d first saw Quirin’s body. Crushing the feeling, he tackled Hector 2 again. They fell to the floor, the clone slipping away and springing to his feet. Hector followed, not letting up on his attack.

“Face it!” Hector 2 laughed. “You’re weak! You’ve already given up on your mission for the sake of a child!”

“I didn’t give up _anything!_ ” Hector snarled. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Varian and Adira chasing after their clones, who had run for the stairs. “You don’t get to talk about my mission.”

“Why not? I’m you!” Hector 2 stepped back, breathing heavily. “You never would have let the Sundrop past the Great Tree if Varian wasn’t there. You’d’ve killed her or died trying. He’s made you weak. Did you really think you could stay loyal to your mission _and_ take responsibility for that brat as well?”

“Shut up!” Hector charged forward again, but Hector 2 dodged.

“I’ll do you a favor,” the clone said. “I’ll go ahead and end him so you can get back to the important stuff. He deserves it, anyway. He killed our brother.” He turned and sped away after the others.

Hector roared in rage and followed, slashing at the creature. Hector 2 continued to dodge and strike back, every bit of Hector’s speed and skill at his disposal. The warrior gritted his teeth. They were perfectly matched, neither being able to get an advantage. He suspected that was why the clone kept up his incessant chatter. To try to distract him or make him mad enough to slip up and make a mistake.

Thinking quickly, Hector sheathed his sword, crossed his arms behind his back, and blocked Hector 2’s blade with his foot, twisting his leg and slamming the blade to the ground. Then he spun and slammed his other foot against the clone’s face. He unsheathed his sword again and swung it down in an arc. The clone’s eyes widened, and he wavered for a moment before dissipating into smoke.

Hector whirled around. Where had it gone? Was this some new trick, that it could disappear and reappear at will? He missed the good old days, when whacking someone with a sword meant they stayed down.

Seeing Adira and Varian, along with Riki and Ruddiger, at the end of the hall, he sighed in relief. At a glance, he saw it was his Varian. “Did you see where the thing went?” he demanded.

“It’s dead, I think,” Varian assured him. “Same thing happened when Aunt Adira hit hers. Mine went after the others. We can’t find him.” The boy was shaking slightly, hovering close to Adira and holding his arms. Ruddiger sat on his shoulders, curled around his neck and purring comfortingly.

Hector joined them and wrapped Varian in a hug. “You okay, Var?”

“Fine, fine… No. I—” He leaned into Hector’s hug. “I’m not.”

Hector hissed quietly. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” Straightening up, he cracked his neck. “’Kay, stay here. I’ll kill the other one.”

“No!” Varian pulled away and set his jaw. “I can do this. Besides, I think I know what these things are.”

“Uh, evil clones?”

“Not quite. Remember what Mr. Matthews said earlier? Mirrors show the darkness we’d rather ignore, the choices we’ve made. I think these clones are the embodiment of our worst selves. That’s my mine… that’s why he’s me from a year ago. He’s me at my worst, when I chose to attack an entire blasted kingdom.”

“Chose?!” Hector snapped. “They didn’t really _give_ you a choice. What were your other options? Die?”

Varian shrugged. “I’m not saying I had good options. But I wasn’t innocent. And he’s the… not innocent side of me.”

“Okay, but what about us?” Adira asked. “They looked identical.”

“What did your clone say?” Hector asked.

“Something about killing you two to get the Sundrop to the Dark Kingdom. But I wouldn’t do something like that, so how is that my worst self?”

“I think it’s what we could become. What we could possibly do if we made the wrong choices.” Hector toyed with one of his braids. “You could choose to get the Sundrop to the Moonstone, no matter the cost. Even if the cost is us.”

“What did yours do?”

His chest tightened as he struggled to pull in breath. “It’s the side of me that wants to protect the Moonstone above everything. The side that doesn’t care who gets in the way of the mission. It… it tried to kill Varian.”

O‴O‴O‴

To say that Adira was shocked by the statement would be an understatement. It took Varian and Hector both to calm her down before she stabbed someone.

Varian was less shocked. He knew Hector would never hurt him, but he remembered well the day not long ago that Hector had lost control and snapped at him. He didn’t fear him now, not at all, but as Hector quickly explained the clone’s words, he couldn’t stop the sliver of doubt that crept into his mind.

Would Hector choose the Moonstone over him if it came down to it? He’d seemed pretty willing to throw aside his entire mission to save Varian a few months ago, but would he regret that? Would he decide that was a mistake? He’d only known Varian six months as opposed to the decades he’d spent guarding the Moonstone.

No! Varian dispelled the thought. Hector had proven himself time and time again. He would never do anything to hurt him. But Varian had been a bit of a liability lately… Maybe he should work on being a bit more independent? Training harder, acting less like a scared child around the Sundrop and her entourage. Prove he was worthy of being a successor of his father’s title. Worthy of being a member of the Brotherhood.

The three, plus their animals, kept going. Hector had tried to order him to stay behind until they could deal with the doubles and come get him, but Adira reminded him it would be safer with them than on his own. The house seemed a lot bigger than it had a few hours ago, and soon Varian had no idea where they were. Occasionally the sound of shouting would guide them in another direction.

Varian ran alongside his aunt and uncle, the warriors going slower than normal so Varian could keep up on his short legs. He gritted his teeth and tried to run faster. He wouldn’t slow them down.

Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. He skidded to a stop and glared down a side hall at his clone, who still hadn’t lost his infuriating smirk. The clone motioned for him to follow then turned and disappeared around a corner.

Varian hesitated. He turned to call to Hector and Adira, but he stopped. They hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t with him, and this could be his chance… If he dealt with Varian 2 himself, maybe they’d see he wasn’t a weak link. He followed the clone.

The blasted thing seemed to be taunting him, waiting at the edge of every corner to make sure Varian was following him. He readied his knife. He wasn’t as familiar with that form of combat, since Hector had him training with a staff and a training sword, but he knew enough to fight an untrained doppelganger. Maybe. If he avoided the goo bombs and whatever else his clone had.

He came to a stop in the doorway of a circular room. The clone stood in the middle, his back to Varian. The warrior in training took a stabilizing breath and crept forward on bare feet. Closer, closer, his dagger ready, if he could just be quick enough…

Then what? Varian’s blood ran cold. This was a clone, a mirror of his darkness, but could he strike it down? It wasn’t an animal he was hunting for food. If he killed this… this thing, was it the same as killing a human? If he were to become a knight, he’d have to eventually, right? But could he?

“What’s the matter?” Varian 2’s voice taunted. “It’s not like you had a problem trying to kill before, right?”

Varian gasped as a voice rang through the room, the way it had with Hector earlier.

_IT’S NOT ENOUGH UNTIL YOU’VE ENDURED THE SAME AMOUNT OF PAIN AND AGONY I HAVE!_

_Screaming. Cries of pain. Two people held in the grip of his machine, the life draining from them, an uncaring monster ready to kill…_

Varian fell to his knees, his hands clamped over his ears and dagger falling to the ground. The noise rattled through his mind, defying his efforts to block it out. It was inside him, in his very being, a part of him he could never deny or cast aside, the part of him that tried to murder two people.

“You really think you’re anything more than _this_?” Varian 2 hissed. “You’re a murderer. If Rapunzel hadn’t stopped you, you would’ve killed Cassandra. You would’ve killed the _queen_. This is who you are.” He scoffed. “What makes you think you deserve those warriors’ attention? You’re nothing but a traitor and a monster. You need to accept that. Embrace the truth. Adira and Hector know that. That’s why Hector doesn’t trust you.” He smiled cruelly. “But I can help. I can tell you how to make them care about you.”

He looked up, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“Own who you are. We’re the same. Let me help you. You betrayed the Sundrop once. We can do it again. Fulfill Hector’s mission and kill the princess. Don’t let her take the Moonstone.”

“But Aunt Adira—”

“Adira will understand when her eyes are no longer blinded by the Sun’s light. All she can see is what everyone else sees. The perfect Sundrop, full of goodness and light and wonder. We’re one of the only people who sees Rapunzel for what she is. Her true evil. You can end her and save the world from her false hope. Save _Adira_ from her. Put the cost aside and save your family. You want to prove you’re worthy to be in the Brotherhood, right? _Protect the stone._ ” He tapped the knife on the ground. “Look at yourself. See what she did to you. _It’s her fault._ ”

Varian looked down at the dagger. Slowly, he picked it up and examined the blade, tilting it to see the reflection of his scarred face.

_She_ had done this, with her fake promises and hollow speeches. With the attention she had given, just enough to give him hope, withdrawing it as soon as he was used up and empty and worthless. As soon as he needed something in return. Her words were beautiful, hiding the deadly poison underneath. She may not have raised a hand to him personally, rocks not included, but she had broken the only promise she made him, denied him the only thing he asked. She’d gotten what she wanted and left him to the mercy of beasts.

He lifted the dagger, balancing it in his hand, tightening his grip around the hilt. In front of him, Varian 2 smiled cruelly.

He was still smiling when Varian drove the dagger into his heart.

The smile faded, replaced with an expression of horror. “No,” the original Varian murmured. “I’m not you. Not anymore. I’ll decide who I am.”

“T—the pri…”

“She hurt me, yes. But I hurt her, too. I can’t change who she is. I’m only responsible for who I am.”

Varian 2 smiled weakly. Not a cruel smile this time. “Y-you rea-really grew up.” Then he faded away.

The dagger slipped from Varian’s hands again, clattering against the tile floor.

“How did you do that?”

He looked up to see the princess standing in a doorway at the opposite side of the room from where he’d entered. “I didn’t see. How did you kill it?”

“He’s my worst self,” Varian rasped, fixing her with a solemn gaze. She was probably the real one—the clone would have probably attacked him already. “The embodiment of my darkest moments. I killed him because he’s something I’ve had to kill before. I have to kill that part of me every time that doubt starts creeping back in. I have to kill that part of me every time I look at you and start thinking of everything that happened a year ago.”

She took a step back. Varian stood and pushed his hair out of his face. “Let’s go. How many are left?”

“I’m… not sure. We got separated.”

“’Kay. Come on. Let’s hope they’re having better luck.”

O‴O‴O‴

The others were not having better luck. Hector slammed his fist against a wall in rage. This place seemed to be shifting, changing, warping itself into a convoluted maze that spun and twisted and stole his sense of direction away. Stole his _nephew_ away. Even now, Varian was probably lost somewhere in this labyrinth of pink and white, at the mercy of a long-buried version of himself. Hector had no way to reach him, no way to help him, no way of even knowing where he was or even if he was okay.

“How did I lose him?!” he snarled. “He was right behind me!”

“Because you don’t have eyes in the back of your head,” Adira offered unhelpfully.

“ _Thank you,_ sister,” he spat back sarcastically. “How did I ever survive without you for a quarter of a century?”

“I have no idea.”

Ruddiger facepalmed, and Hector gestured to him. “See, even the rat thinks you’re being unhelpful. Now if you could get a grip for five seconds, _my nephew is missing somewhere in this blasted house with an evil doppelganger of himself on the loose!_ ”

“Our nephew,” Adira reminded him sternly, eyes narrowed in a pained expression. “I know I haven’t known him as long as you have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him and I’m not worried about him. And if you have an actual plan besides breaking down a wall with your bare fists, I’ll gladly hear it.”

Hector growled and rubbed his forehead. “What would Varian do?”

“What _could_ Varian do in a magical house that’s moving? If we assume that either Matthews or the house itself is intentionally keeping us from where we want to go, what could any of us do to get around this type of magic?”

He thought for a minute. “I don’t know,” he huffed in vexation. “If it’s keeping us from where we want to go…” He frowned. “Hold on. What… what if we’re not trying to go anywhere?”

“What?”

“There’s eight humans and four animals trying to get out of here and escape from evil clones. That’s got to be taxing the house to its limits, right?”

“We don’t know its limits.”

“What if we’re not trying to get to Varian? Or get out, or anything? What if we don’t have a plan, and we’re just walking randomly?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“Yes, but with intent to _get_ somewhere.” He grinned. “That’s it! We don’t need a plan. We just need to keep going so the house doesn’t know what to do with us while it’s distracted keeping everyone else separated.”

“I really do think that’s a terrible idea.”

“It is an idea, though. One that’s not punching walls.”

“Touché. Lead the way, Your Randomness.”

O‴O‴O‴

As they ran, Varian realized in surprise this was the first time he’d been alone with her since that day in the vault. Ever since then, she had either been ignoring him or treating him like the scum of the earth within full view and hearing of someone else. He gritted his teeth and shoved the dark emotions that sprang up into a little corner in his mind to deal with later. Healthy suppression, Uncle Hector called it. Put it away and deal with it later when your life isn’t at risk. If the mirror creatures wanted to stir up discord, then it was his responsibility to not let them win, to channel his emotions properly and at the right time. Not now.

The house was near impossible to navigate, and Varian growled as they passed a familiar-looking table. “Okay, I know for a fact we’ve been here. We’re going in circles.”

“How?” the princess panted. “We couldn’t have been.”

“It’s the house. It’s trying to turn us around. It’s herding us.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know. But I’d bet my boots we won’t like it.”

“Okay.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Then we need a plan. What if we tried checking every door?”

“Yeah, and we’d be here till the skies fall.” He kept walking.

“Okay, Mr. Strategy, what do you suggest?” She crossed her arms. “Throwing goo bombs at the walls to make them stay in place? Maybe, I don’t know, kidnapping Mr. Matthews’ mother to blackmail him into showing us the way?”

Varian whirled on her. “That’s it!” he snarled. “I’ve _had_ it with you. You’re petty, selfish, cruel, immature, and nearly as unfit to rule a kingdom as your father; and I say nearly, because he knew about the problems and chose not to do anything, and you just couldn’t be bothered to find out what was wrong in the first place. So if you want to stand there and make snippy comments, find someone else to listen to you— _if_ you can find them, of course. But _some_ of us are actually interested in getting back to the people who _don’t_ treat us like the dirt on the bottom of their pedicured little foot.” He turned and started to storm off.

“Can you blame me?” she snapped back. “You attacked my kingdom! You hurt my mom! You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side for a year now.”

He turned back to her. “Thorn in your side for a year. That’s funny. I seem to recall you having nothing to do with me for a month until I forced you to, then we spoke once or twice, and then you left for that year you claim I was a thorn and ignored me. Tell me, _princess,_ did you ever once think about the kid you left behind at the mercy of a tyrant? Did you ever think that maybe leaving the man who hated me in charge of getting me ‘help’ was a bad idea?”

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” She straightened and towered over him, but he didn’t flinch.

“If the fancy royal boot fits,” he hissed. “But we’re getting distracted. The last thing either of us wants is to be trapped with each other for eternity, so we really do need to find a way out of here. So with all due respect, which isn’t a lot, I’ll admit, _grow up._ ”

He turned to go, but her cold voice stopped him in his tracks. “I did think of you once. Just a few months ago. And you know what I remembered? I remembered you were a _threat_.”

He scoffed. “Princess, if you could’ve seen me a few months ago, I promise you wouldn’t have seen me as a threat. Prison does a number on a kid, and I got six months of it I had to recover from. I’m still recovering.” He clenched his left arm in a painful grip. “And some things I can’t recover from. But you know what? Every time I thought of you for a year, I had two thoughts. Regret, regret for what I’d done, for hurting you, for _listening to you and believing your lies_. And fear. Fear you’d hurt me or send me back to prison or sway me with more lies and I’d fall down at your feet and beg you to let me be your footstool.” He gave her a pointed glare. “But I’m not afraid anymore. I see you for what you are. A coward who hides behind magic hair and yells at children who don’t obey her. I see you as someone who would rather shuffle her responsibility onto me and then get mad when I can’t bear the burden. I see you as a princess who talks of friendship but who uses and abuses her power to get what she wants. Just because you’re the Sundrop doesn’t mean you’re the sun, and the world doesn’t revolve around you. So I’ll say it again; _grow up_.”

He repressed a shiver at the sight of the hatred emanating off her features, a hatred he’d only ever seen from her directed at him. “You talk big when Hector’s not here for you to hide behind,” she hissed.

He scoffed. “Just the fact that I feel the need to hide should tell you everything you need to know.”

“Oh, it does. It tells me you can’t face the consequences of your actions.”

“Then you’re even dumber than I thought. It should tell you you’re a bigger threat to me than I am to you. What do you expect me to do? I don’t have alchemy. I don’t even have vision in one eye. If you wanted to hurt me, all I have is a dagger, and that’s nothing against your hair.” He stepped closer, waving his arms. “So tell me, princess. If you really hate me this much, why haven’t you attacked me already? Go ahead. I’m at your mercy, what little there is.”

“You want me to hurt you?”

“Why not? You hurting me here is better than sending me back to prison, which is what I know you want to do. Oh, I know why you won’t hurt me yourself. Because you don’t want to get your own hands dirty. Know how I know?” he stood on his tiptoes to get closer to her face. “Because you’re _just like your father_.” She started to interrupt, but he held up his hand. “You’d rather get someone else to do your dirty work. That’s why you let Cassandra treat me the way she does, so you don’t have to feel guilty.”

She shook her head. “That’s _enough,_ Varian,” she growled. “You don’t get to play the victim. After what you did, you have no right to act like you’re some innocent little kid who had all this bad stuff happen to him. You started this mess; you don’t get to blame me.”

He gritted his teeth, disregarding her order and ignoring the bad memories her words brought up. “Is your hair so thick that sound can’t get to your ears? I _told_ you I know I did horrible things. Trust me; that’s not news to me. You don’t think I still get nightmares over what I did? You don’t think Uncle Hector has to talk me through panic attacks constantly because I’m drowning in the guilt of my actions? Trust me, princess, there’s nothing you can tell me I did wrong that I don’t already know.” He pointed a finger in her face. “But you don’t get to play victim, either. Not after you lied to me. Not after I had to resort to kidnapping and blackmail just to get you to try to keep a promise you never should have made. Not after you used me and threw me aside like a broken vase when I asked for _the bare minimum_. So I’m sorry if my existence is a bother to you. I’m sorry if it would be easier for you if I just meekly went back to that waking nightmare Uncle Hector pulled me out of. Because as long as I’m alive, I won’t set a single foot back in that cell. I’d literally rather die.”

A long golden whip struck him, slamming him up against a wall. Then it latched around his foot, yanking him off balance and sending him to his back on the ground. The person on the other end pulled on it, and he slid across the ground before coming to a stop at the feet of a very irate princess who glared down at him in hate.

“You talk too much,” she responded.

He stared up at her in shock, looking back over his shoulder to where the other princess stood, the one he’d just been yelling at. She appeared just as shocked as he.

Well. Looks like they’d found her clone.

O‴O‴O‴

He leaped to his feet, dagger drawn, and attacked. Her hair whipped at him, looping around his arms, his chest, his legs, and she dragged him to his knees, plucking the blade from his hand. “That’s better,” she stated. “You’ve been a pain.”

“Let go!” he snarled, struggling against his bonds.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she chided. “Be a good boy and _stay where you belong_.” Her hair tightened around him, and breathing became a chore. He couldn’t breathe, and he was tied up, and _she was going to hurt him—_

He bit his lip and slowed his breathing. He _could not panic_ now. But it wasn’t his choice, and his veins throbbed with the pounding of his heart. He wrestled against his bonds, but they grew ever tighter around his struggling form until he couldn’t move a muscle. “L-let me _go_! Please!” Tears started to gather in the corner of his eyes, and he mentally berated himself for his weakness.

A second golden whip flashed through the air, and Varian flinched; this one, however, struck the clone and sent her falling to the ground. Her hair didn’t slacken, and Varian’s vision was starting to blur—whether from panic or lack of oxygen, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

“Let him go,” the princess growled. Varian was sure now that it was lack of oxygen, because there was no way she was actually defending him.

The clone stood to her feet, her hands still wrapped tightly around her hair, keeping him bound. “Aww, how sweet!” she gushed. “The perfect princess coming to the rescue of her enemy. But what for? He already hates you for using him. He won’t let you again. He’s nothing to you.”

The princess’s mouth dropped. “I don’t care! I’m not letting you take him.”

Her doppelganger nodded. “Right. After all, you do need Hector to keep you alive until you can get to the Dark Kingdom, and that might be hard to do if you let his nephew get kidnapped. But hey, it’s not like he’s going to let you take the Moonstone anyway, so how about I help you? You let me have the traitor and let my siblings and I kill the knight, and I’ll tell you how to get to your friends and get out of here. Deal?”

“No, princess, you can’t!” Varian pleaded. The clone whipped a length of her hair around to tie across his mouth, cutting off his words. He jerked painfully as the makeshift gag made breathing that much more difficult.

“What do you want with him?” the princess growled.

“Me? Nothing. I don’t care what happens to him. I’ll give him to the others to take care of.”

“If you don’t care about him, why do you want him?”

“Because,” the clone answered as she stepped closer to the princess. “I care about _you_. I want to see you succeed. I want to see you get everything you want, everything you deserve. Your freedom, your friends, your _destiny_. I’m offering to get you and your friends and the lady warrior out of the house, and I’m offering to remove the two… _obstacles_ keeping you from success. All I want in return is for you to leave all your problems here, never to worry about again. Just forget them. It shouldn’t be hard. You left him with a keeper before.”

Varian managed to spit the hair out. “She’s your worst self! Don’t listen to her!”

The clone tightened his bonds, and he gasped in pain. “Worst self? How is anything she’s done worse than you, _traitor_? You tried to murder people!”

“Stop it! You’re hurting him!” the princess exclaimed. She whipped her hair again, but the clone dodged.

“Fine,” she growled. “Since you won’t take my offer, I suppose I have no choice.” Her eyes glowed red, and voices started to echo through the hall, the way they had earlier with his clone. Overlapping yelling, screaming, shouting, echoing through the halls and pounding into his brain like fists, ripping inside his mind and dredging up long-buried days of bruises and blood…

_“Where is it?!”_

_“I don’t—I don’t know, please! D-don’t—"_

_CRACK!_

_“You can end this. Just tell us where it is!”_

_“S-she’ll come… She’s coming, and y-you’ll be sor-sorry…”_

_“Ha! Boy, if she were coming, she’d be here. It’s been, what, three weeks?_ She’s not coming. _So save us the time and effort and_ give us the scroll!”

_Hands closed around his throat… “If he won’t talk, he doesn’t need to breathe.”_

He couldn’t breathe, her hair was wrapped around his throat, choking him, his vision faded…

_“You’re a monster. The princess is innocent, and you had_ no right _to expect her to care about a filthy pauper like you.”_

_“Traitor.”_

_“Murderer.”_

_The cracking of a whip, tearing into his skin._

_The hissing and sizzling of a hot iron._

_Screaming, so much screaming, they loved it when he screamed, but they said he was bad, so they punished him for it… Tearing from his throat, shredding his voice… Salt from his tears stung the cuts on his face, and he couldn’t help the muffled sobs that escaped…_

A strangled scream, muffled behind his teeth, clamped onto his lip. Tears breaking past his eyelids and dripping down his face to the floor, some falling on golden hair.

“ENOUGH!”

He forced his gaze over to the princess, who knelt on the ground, hands over her ears in a useless attempt to keep out the tormented sounds, the sounds that had haunted his every waking moment for six months and his nightmares for six months after that. _His_ sounds. His screams. How long had that infernal noise been ringing through the barren halls? A few seconds? Minutes? It felt like six months to him.

“Please!” the princess gasped, looking up at the clone with streaks across her skin from where she’d been crying. “Make it stop! I accept!”

The screaming cut off abruptly, with an air of finality that felt too much like death. The clone pointed to a door, her hair loosening from around Varian’s throat enough to allow him to breathe. “You’ll find your friends through there,” she stated cheerily as if she hadn’t just summoned Varian’s most torturous moments from the darkness of his sordid past. “After that, it’s the third door on the left.” She smiled, a kind smile that belied her actions. “You’re doing the right thing. Just forget about this. It’s what you do best. Go get your destiny.”

The princess stood on shaky legs and started for the door. Varian’s eyes widened. She was leaving him here at the mercy of this… this _thing_? “Pr—pri—” His voice refused to cooperate despite the removal of the golden collar.

She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I have to go. I don’t have a choice.”

Varian’s heart dropped to his stomach. He should have known better than to expect her to save him. She never had in the past. She didn’t care. Maybe Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira would find him in time. Or maybe he could wait until the clone’s guard was down, try to attack when she wasn’t looking. Either way, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He eyed the dagger. If he could reach it…

He’d what? His body felt like anvils had been tied to it. His head still rang with the sound of the agonized screams he’d given during his worst months. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball, go to sleep, and hope Hector would find him soon. But Hector wasn’t here. And it was Varian’s fault.

He refused to turn his head and watch the princess abandon him. Again. At least this time he wasn’t surprised; he knew she’d never stay to help him. He was on his own, the way he’d always been when it came to _her_ —

The clone yelped as the princess’s hair wrapped around her ankle, yanking her off her feet the way she’d done with Varian. With a tug, the original dragged her doppelganger across the hall, smacking her in the face with her ever-present frying pan. Then she opened the door, bracing herself against the frame as a fierce suction pulled at them, hauling them towards the door and the endless black void beyond.

What the _CRAP_ was wrong with this house?

Varian came loose from the doppelganger’s hair as she lost her balance, his aching body hitting the ground and lighting up with pain like fire. The princess grabbed the dazed clone and tossed her through the door. She reached over to close it, and Varian sighed with relief.

It was short-lived, however, as the double’s hair lashed out and wrapped around the princess’s waist, yanking her through the door with her.

Varian moved reflexively, crossing the hall at impossible speed and grabbing her wrist. She latched on to him as he held onto the doorframe, the void attempting to pull him in as well. His muscles strained at the exertion, and his fingers clinging to the door grew numb. Her nails dug into his gloves as she hung on for dear life.

The clone, having recovered her senses, growled and started to climb the length of hair towards them. Varian tried to call out to warn the princess, but no sound passed his throat. She noticed, however, and let go with one hand to try to pull the hair away from her waist. When that didn’t work, she turned to Varian, her green eyes clouded with fear.

Varian looked around. There had to be something he could do! But he couldn’t let go of her. His eyes landed on the dagger, lying uselessly on the ground. Nodding to it, he rasped, “Pr-pri—t-the dag—”

She gasped as she saw his meaning. Grabbing a handful of her own hair, she threw it, letting it wrap around the handle of the dagger and dragging it back towards her. She flung her hair backwards, and the dagger whizzed past them and flew at the clone, who shrieked and dissipated as it struck her.

Without the added weight, Varian pulled on the princess’s arm until she could reach the doorframe and pull herself back into the hall. She grabbed the door, and he helped her wrestle it closed. They placed their backs against it and slid to the floor, panting heavily as the ferocious howling of the wind died away.

“Wow!” the princess exclaimed. “That was… interesting.”

Varian rolled his eyes. “Wh-wha—” He fell into another coughing spell, hands hovering over his aching throat helplessly. His unwilling companion grabbed his bag and pulled out a canteen of water for him, which he took with a nod of thanks. The cool water soothed his aching, and he sighed. “How d-did you—why did you save me?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t going to let her have you.”

“Why not?”

She blinked. “I—what do you mean? You thought I’d leave you for her to hurt or kill?”

“Yes. You did before.”

“Varian.” Her face fell. “That screaming…”

“Was me. Ba-back then”

She paled. “I was afraid of that. So then… oh.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I… the thing she said… about not being able to use you, about leaving you the way I did before…” She put her head in her hands. “That’s stuff you were telling me.”

“Yeah.”

“They… they tortured you.”

“Yeah.”

“Before you even stole the flower… they beat you.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his forehead but didn’t interrupt.

“And you… you waited on me to come. And I didn’t… I didn’t come for you.” She shook her head. “Oh. Oh, Varian, I…”

A myriad of expressions crossed her face; confusion, sadness, frustration, anger. Varian pitied her. He’d gone through the exact same thing, unable to admit his own faults and clinging desperately to the idea that she had hurt him so badly that he had no choice. He’d been that way for about a week, languishing in a cell with nothing to do but think. By the time he’d come to terms with what had happened, the king had decided to allow the guards to use him as a canvas to paint their rage and cruelty on, and he’d started to forget that he wasn’t the only one at fault.

He leaned his head against the door. “I’m tired. Wake me in a bit?”

“Sure,” she murmured. “I’ll keep watch.” She turned her face away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. Leaving his life in her hands was probably a mistake, but he needed to rest, and she needed time to herself. Maybe after that, they could talk; not peasant to princess, not villain to hero, just the two of them as themselves.

O‴O‴O‴

True to her word, she woke him an hour or two later. Keeping their silence, they wandered along until a staircase led them to the spacious foyer, where Hector, Adira, the animals, and the princess’s friends were already waiting. Eugene gasped when he saw them. “Oh, thank goodness! We were about to come looking for you.” Ruddiger screeched and leaped into Varian’s arms.

“Varian!” Hector ran forward, scooping his nephew into a bear hug. “What the crap, kid! You can’t just wander off like that! You scared me half to death.” Adira joined them, placing a hand on Varian’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his uncle’s chest.

“What were you thinking?”

Varian winced. “Sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

“What?” Hector pulled away to look him in the eyes. “I’m not mad, just worried. Why did you do that?”

He bit his lip. “I… wanted to prove I could do it,” he whispered. “That I could be like you.”

Hector and Adira shared a concerned look over his head. “Varian,” his aunt sighed. “You don’t _have_ to be like us. You’ve been doing this for, what, four months? We’ve been doing this for nearly four _decades._ Why do you think you have to be like us?”

He hugged Ruddiger close to his chest. “I wanted to show you I wasn’t a liability. That you don’t have to… don’t have to worry about me getting in the way.”

“Ah, kid,” Hector grumbled, pulling him back into the hug. “Is this about what that stupid double said? Forget that freak. You’re not in my way. And I already told you I ain’t leaving you behind. Promise. Ah, crap, I mean—”

“It’s okay.” Varian hugged him tighter. “I believe you. You always keep your word.”

“Ugh, stop. You’re making me sentimental.” Hector pressed a kiss to the top of Varian’s head. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, too.”

The warrior stepped back. “Now that the mushy junk’s out of the way, don’t do that again. My fragile heart can only take so much.”

“Oh, you have a heart?” Varian taunted.

“Shh. Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Aww, is the great Hector a softie?” Adira smirked, leaning an elbow on her brother’s shoulder. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. Varian hissed and stepped back. A stricken look overcame Hector’s features, and he let go of Adira.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“’S fine,” Varian stated much too casually.

“Well, don’t know about y’all, but I’m sick of this place. Caravan?” Hector put an arm around Varian and made for the door, the others following. Outside, the rain was cascading in solid sheets. “Crap.” A collective groan went up from the assembly behind them.

“We can make it,” Varian offered. He yelped as lightning struck the ground right outside the open door. “Or maybe not.”

“We can stay the night,” Adira offered. “Keep watch to make sure nothing comes up.”

They crashed in the middle of the foyer, leaning up against the bearcats. Varian looked around. The others appeared as shaken as he—except for the old man, of course, who snoozed away against the wall. Fitzherbert’s hair was in a sad state of disarray, Lance stood off by himself fiddling with a length of string and biting his lip, and Cassandra leaned against the fireplace at the base of the curving stair, gazing into the flames and… was she crying? The great Cassandra, crying? She happened to glance up, meeting his glance. Just as quickly, she looked away again, but he didn’t miss the sight of guilt—horridly familiar guilt—in her eyes.

And the princess, the great Sundrop herself, sat alone on the stairs, sobbing quietly into her hair.

Varian handed Ruddiger to Hector and impetuously approached Fitzherbert. He motioned to the princess. “I-is she okay?”

The brunet shrugged. “Don’t know. She wouldn’t say anything, just that she needed to be alone. What happened with you two? If you said something to her…” The harsh words lacked venom. What had the man been forced to encounter in himself?

“She had to face her worst self,” Varian informed him. “That’s what those things were. The reflections of our inner darkness. She… I don’t think she took it well.”

“That explains a lot,” Fitzherbert muttered. “Those mirror monsters… If I never see one again, it’ll be too soon. The monsters, not mirrors. Although I think I’ll try to avoid magic mirrors from now on.” He crossed his arms. “Wait, but Rapunzel doesn’t _have_ a dark side.”

Varian gave him a level glare. “Doesn’t she?” he whispered softly. He turned away from Fitzherbert and noiselessly crossed to the stairs. The princess—his bane, his enemy, the woman he had blackmailed and lied to because he’d felt he had no choice, the woman who had saved him for the first time a few hours earlier—didn’t look up as he sat next to her.

“I’m sorry,” he began, tapping his fingers nervously on his leg. She gasped and turned to him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you. Sorry I kidnapped your mom. Sorry I committed treason and blackmailed you. Sorry—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, technically, I’m not sorry for stealing the flower, since I didn’t really have any better options at the time, but sorry I got you involved. And I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“W-what?” She stared at him like his hair was made of snakes. “You’re… you’re apologizing to me? I thought you said—”

“I know what I said,” he interrupted. “And… I don’t care. I don’t care if you apologize to me or not. That’s not my concern. I’m not responsible for you or what you do. I’m only responsible for my actions. And I owe you an apology. So I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, since what I did was horrible, but I just wanted you to know I truly am sorry.”

“How can you say that?” She shook her head. “I thought you hated me!”

“I did, for a while. But… I’m tired. I’m so sick and tired of hating. Of dwelling on my past. I just want to move on.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “Princess, today I came face to face with the person I wish I’d never become. And… I’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’s a part of me I can’t pretend never existed. But that’s not who I am anymore. He’s a part of me I had to learn from, but he doesn’t define me. I get to choose who I want to be. And I’ll do anything I can to keep from ever being him again. So you have every right to be skeptical of me and hold a grudge, since I did hurt you, and I understand if you want me to get what I deserve. But I paid for my actions, and all I want now is to… to let go of my past. I’m burning bridges, and I want to do it right. That’s why I can tell you I’m sorry.”

To his surprise, her tears started falling faster. “Why did you save me?” she whispered. “With my double. You could have let her have me, but you caught me instead. You didn’t have to do that. You don’t want me going to the Dark Kingdom. You don’t want me dealing with the Moonstone. If you’d let me go, no one would have known. You could have told everyone else she killed me.” Her emerald-green eyes stared into his, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she glanced to his right and then quickly looked away.

“That’s not me. Not anymore.” He gave a sad smile. “Your mom showed me mercy. She saved my life. If she’d told anyone what she saw, I might not have made it out of Corona. After everything I did to her, after nearly killing her, she still chose to let me go. And I can never repay her for that. The least I can do is make sure her daughter makes it out of this stupid house alive.” He nudged her arm with his elbow. “So do me a favor and don’t do anything to get yourself killed, ‘kay?”

He’d hoped for a laugh, maybe just a smile, even. But no, all she did was cry harder. “How can you even stand to be around me?” she choked out. “After everything I did to you! I abandoned you, broke my promise, led an army to your house, let you get arrested, and I didn’t even check to make sure my dad wasn’t going to have you executed or anything! I didn’t even make sure he gave you a trial! And even now, I’ve been nothing but… but a spoiled brat this whole time! The things I said, and letting Cassandra drag you around, and—and my clone was right! All I’ve ever done is use you and treat you horribly, and Varian, I’m so sorry!” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so, so sorry! I have so much to apologize for, and we’d be here all night, but if you want to hear it all, I’ll say it, because I’m sorry for all of it!”

“D-don’t do that,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I believe you.”

She stared up at him again. “Why won’t you yell at me or something? Be mad at me! I deserve it!”

He laughed. “I asked Uncle Hector the same thing when I told him what I did. I guess it’s hard to believe sometimes that we don’t have to be who we were. I don’t forgive you yet—I don’t know if I ever can—but I accept your apology. Thank you. Just… don’t make the same mistakes. Learn from what happened.”

She nodded. “I’m an idiot,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes. “This whole time, I was so certain that you were the same kid I knew back then. I wasn’t willing to give you the chance to change, much less ask if you actually had.”

“I did,” he assured her. “Trust me, I knew what I did was wrong. It took me a few days to see it, but I had a lot of free time to think. I wanted to talk to you then, tell you how sorry I was, but when I asked if I could see you, they just told me scum like me had no place in the presence of a princess.”

She shrugged. “I left the day after the battle. They didn’t tell you?”

“Nah, just let me think you didn’t want to see me. Which I’m sure you didn’t, but still.”

“When did…” She rubbed her arms anxiously. “When did they start… hurting you? After the battle?”

“About a week after my arrest, I think. Why?”

Her eyes traversed the maze of scars on his face and neck. “Six months? They did this to you for six months?”

“Seven, if we count house arrest.”

She pulled her hair in front of her face. “I’m a monster,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. Ugh, I’m… I’m just as bad as… as Gothel.”

“What?”

She peeked back up at him. “I used you. I didn’t care about what happened to you as long as I got what I wanted. I saw you as a means to an end instead of as a person. I blamed you for everything when I did so many horrible things myself. That’s stuff _she_ did.” She straightened and stared down at her feet. “She’d be proud of who I became.”

Varian reached out and took one of her hands as she gasped in surprise. “Princess, believe me when I say I know what you’re going through. I felt the same way when I thought I’d never be anything more than the worthless villain they told me I was doomed to be. I’ll tell you what I wish I had known then. _You don’t have to be that person_. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We get to choose who we’ll be. We may not ever be able to change how people see us or make them forgive us—”

“I do forgive you!” she exclaimed much too quickly.

“Don’t say that,” he argued. “Don’t say it, because I know you don’t mean it and you’re just saying it to make yourself feel better. You don’t forgive me yet, and that’s okay, because I don’t forgive you yet either. We both need time. Is… is that okay? Can we give each other time?”

She nodded. “I think so, yeah. Does that make us bad people?”

“I think we’d be worse people if we said we forgave each other and we didn’t mean it.”

“Can we… can we start over? I know we can’t forgive and forget, but can we maybe try again? Learn to be someone else? To do it differently this time?” She pulled her hand away. “Sorry. I suppose that’s ridiculous—”

He stood, stepping away and facing her. “Hi. I’m Varian.”

She laughed tearfully and stood as well. “Hi. I’m Rapunzel.”

He’d give her a chance, he decided. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t even forgive her. But he’d been given a second chance, a chance to turn his life around. Now he would do the same for her, to give her a chance to change. So he would. Not as her subject, not as her friend, even, but he’d do it while standing on his own feet instead of kneeling. “Nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!


	25. A/N Update!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter, sorry

Hi, y'all! I'm very sorry this isn't a new chapter, but I've come to the realization that I have to put this on hiatus for a bit. I hope to not be gone more than a month or so, and I'm so sorry about this, but I have so many things going on, and my schoolwork is taking a hit. I've already missed about 3 assignments because I can't keep up with everything and my brain is scattered like leaves in the breeze. I am a humble termite in a wooden yo-yo. A compass at the north pole.

Y'all have been so good about being patient with me, and I ask once more for that patience until I can figure out what's going on. I don't want to post chapters that aren't the quality I know I can give you. Lord willing, I'll be back soon. Thank y'all; y'all are the best and I love you. God bless each of you!


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